Slaying the Beast
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is an AU story that begins during "Sucker Punch" when Dick Coonan is using Castle as a shield to get out of the precinct. This time Castle is a bit more successful in fighting back and Kate doesn't have to shoot Coonan. The cover art is by @Artifex Prime. Castle Ficathon Winter 2018
1. Chapter 1

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 1

Castle can't let this happen. He can't let Kate down again. He knows that he and Dick Coonan are about the same height. He can use that. Kate's never believed it, but Castle has some moves he learned as research for Derrick Storm. He can't fuck up now because it won't just mean his life, it may mean Kate's as well. He slams the back of his head into Coonan's face. He hears the crack of the gun, but his blood is too infused with adrenaline to feel anything. Coonan is down, and Castle's on top of him, slamming his fist over and over against the man's obscene mouth.

Kate sounds as if she's miles away. "Castle, Rick, you can stop now. You've got him." He feels her touch on his shoulder and slowly rises, swaying as he stands.

Kate sees the bright red stain beginning to spread along the side of Castle's shirt. "Rick you're bleeding!"

Castle is just beginning to feel the fire where Coonan's bullet skittered along his ribs as it competes with the throb of his hand. He sinks to his knees next to the semi-conscious hitman, as he hears Montgomery call for medics.

* * *

Martha pulls open the door to the loft. She's of two minds about whether to let Katherine Beckett in. If he hadn't been working with her, Richard wouldn't be recovering from a bullet wound and three broken knuckles. But he'll also be ridiculously glad to see her. For better or for worse, her son is totally smitten, and he'll find a way to be at the detective's side. Meeting with her in His bedroom is safer than being her shadow at the next shootout, at least in his present condition.

Kate steps tentatively into what she first thought of as Castle's Batcave. She's come to realize it's anything but that. Instead of Bruce Wayne's self-imposed isolation, Castle's loft is a welcoming haven - except for the chill of Martha's gaze. It's obvious that the older woman holds Kate responsible for what happened at the precinct. And she should. If Kate had caught on to Dick Coonan's subterfuge sooner, Castle wouldn't be hurt. As flighty as Martha has appeared to be, it's clear that she is fiercely protective of her son. "How is he?"

"About as well as can be expected. He's resting, but I don't think he's asleep. Alexis helped him set up his computer to respond to his voice, so he's been writing - about Nikki Heat. I was just about to bring him some super juice. It's my guru's special recipe to speed healing. You can take it in to him."

Castle brightens at the sight of Kate but winces when he sees the tall glass of green goop she's carrying. "Beckett, if you want to do a favor for an injured man, you'll pour that down my bathroom sink and tell Mother I drank it."

"Pretty bad, huh?"

"It makes the daily torture the bullpen used to call coffee, seem like haute cuisine."

Kate's nose wrinkles as she sniffs the slimy liquid. "I see what you mean. I'll be right back."

Castle can hear the water running before Kate returns with the now mercifully empty tumbler. "Thanks."

"It was the least I could do for the hero of the 12th Precinct, or at least that's what Montgomery made you sound like in his incident report. So other than dreading another attempted poisoning by your mother, how do you feel?"

"Aside from being unable to find a comfortable position and frustrated because the dictation function on my computer makes it look like I'm speaking Elvish, on top of the world. What were you able to get out of Coonan?'

"Not as much as I'd hoped. He was bluffing about being able to tell me who paid him to kill my mother. He really never knew who he was working for. He received his instructions by courier or through a messaging system like the one he had set up for his Rathborne identity. He just knows that it's someone with a lot of money and power."

"Are you sure he's telling the truth now? He is a master of never-ending streams of prevarication."

"Castle, the man is a worm who'll do anything he can to wiggle out from under what will be the maximum sentence possible in the highest security corrections facility. He'd do anything to cut himself a deal, even tell the truth. The boys are on the trail of the courier and Tech is picking up the computer breadcrumbs, but so far, they haven't found much."

"How about Johnny Vong? He was up to his phony accent in the opiates trade. Coonan is a hit man. He must not be at the top of the ladder of the drug operation. It would have been easier to make his money taking people out. The schools he built in Afghanistan were a front, but a front for whom? Vong must have heard something or seen something, even if he doesn't know it. With Coonan off the street, he may be a lot more willing to deal now."

Kate perches on the edge of the bed, drawn by the earnestness in Castle's eyes. "You may have a point. I'll have Vong brought back to the precinct for questioning."

Castle pushes himself up against the tufted leather backboard behind him. "I want in."

"Are you sure you're up to it, Castle?"

"Kate, I've never been so up for something in my life!"

* * *

At least Vong has his shoes on this time, and he's not even making any pretense of being born anywhere but the U.S. of A. Even with multiple reassurances that he's out of Coonan's reach, he looks nervous. It's understandable. If Kate was glaring at him that way, Castle would be nervous too. As he sits next to her at the table, he can feel the intensity radiating from her body. "Vong, you have nothing to lose here and everything to gain. The more you tell me, the harder I'll work to convince the D.A. to ask for a shorter sentence for you. If you're really helpful, I might be able to talk him down to a year or two in minimum security or even probation, but I need to know everything you saw and heard when you were dealing with Coonan, even if it seemed unimportant at the time."

"I just don't believe that I have what you want. Coonan put on a show, even for me. He had all these photographs of this village he said he built for the Afghans fleeing the Taliban. They could have been photoshopped, but they didn't look it. I mean I've done a lot of that myself, making the marks who came to my seminars think I flipped all those houses. You have to be really careful to get the shadows and the proportions right. Making something convincing can be tough. But Coonan's pictures didn't have any telltales. The village looked real."

Castle nudges Kate and points the way out of the box. "Maybe the village is real, Beckett. Maybe it was Coonan's base of operations. And if it was, someone there would have to know something about who was pulling the strings."

"Castle, are you suggesting we take a trip to Afghanistan? Even if Montgomery would go along with something like that, which he wouldn't, the N.Y.P.D. doesn't fund speculative junkets into foreign territory."

"It wouldn't have to. Jameson Rook is based on a real person - I mean someone besides me. He's a genuine investigative reporter. I've helped him with a couple of 'speculative junkets,' as you call them, in exchange for material for my books about Storm and Heat. I'm extremely familiar with his work. If anyone would know if Coonan's village is real or not. He would. He's in New York right now. I could get us a sit-down."

Kate sighs. "Why not, Castle? He couldn't give us much less than Vong seems to be able to."

Castle starts to clap his hands together before the fractured bones remind him it's a bad idea. "Great! I'll set it up."


	2. Chapter 2

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 2

Colby Chesmire doesn't look a bit like Jameson Rook, or much like an intrepid foreign correspondent either. He'd have a hard time topping five four, his hair is mostly a memory, and his round spectacles are reminiscent of a Dickensian character. The blue eyes behind them, however, don't miss a thing. He swipes through the pictures on Kate's phone. "Yes, there is a village like this, right on the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan. It's Pashtun territory on both sides and prime opium growing country. Distribution isn't primarily in the United States. Afghanistan only supplies 7% of the opiates here. That's probably why Johnny Vong was a relatively minor player. Right now fentanyl from China is the growing business. These particular fields have supply routes to Europe.

You are right that Dick Coonan didn't control the operation. He was a front man as well as from what you've told me, part of the clean-up operation for the real leadership."

"Colb, don't keep us in suspense," Castle urges. "Who's the big cheese?"

"Castle, if I knew that, it would be my scoop of the decade. But I can tell you this, whoever it is has a lot of political influence. The Senate Intelligence Committee tried to launch several investigations into what's going on in that area. They were quashed every time. You're looking for someone who has a lot of funds to throw around and not just from a single drug operation. Whoever it is probably has a major super PAC behind him, maybe more than one."

"How do you know it's a him?" Kate queries. "Could a woman be in charge?"

Colby shakes his head. "Not operating hand in hand with the Pashtuns. They preach respect and protection for their women, but essentially it boils down to oppression. A man would have to be giving the orders. That is not to say a woman couldn't be involved, but it would have to be behind the scenes."

"The power behind the throne, so to speak," Castle summarizes.

"If she were to exist," Colby agrees. "But if I were you two, I would look for mover and shaker in DC, with a New York connection."

Kate nibbles at her lip. "It sounds like the Intelligence Committee would be a good place to start."

"It would," Colby agrees. "I'd do some digging for you if I didn't have to leave in a couple of hours for an assignment in Iraq embedded with the Kurds. But keep me posted if you get anything. I'd like to stay on top of this. Rick knows how to contact me."

Castle bobs in a shallow bow. "Done."

Kate slides behind the wheel of her unit noticing Castle repressing a groan as he sinks into the passenger seat. "Castle, do you want me to drop you back at your loft, so you can get some rest?"

"I'd rather be at the precinct. I'll feel the same there as I do at home. Better maybe, more distraction and less swamp water pushed in my face. Mother's got Alexis trying to force the stuff on me too. I can do some research. My phone understands what I say pretty well - better than my computer does. And I have an unlimited data plan."

"All right. If a body drops, I can have a uni take you home, unless you want to tag along on that too."

"Where you go, I go. It's worked out pretty well so far, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, Castle, most of the time I guess it has, but wear your vest. I don't want to have to explain to your family or to Captain Montgomery if you get shot again."

"Copy that."

* * *

Castle scans through the pictures of the senators on the Intelligence Committee. Including ex-officio members, of the 19, only three are women, two from California and one from Maine. Going along with Colby's advice, he concentrates on the men, especially any from New York. One qualifies. He's not only on the Intelligence Committee but on the Armed Services Committee. How convenient. He'd get his information from two sources. His name is William H. Bracken. Castle starts digging into his background.

Bracken's official bio is glowing. He got his start in politics as a New York District Attorney. He was the D.A. when Johanna Beckett was murdered. That tracks. Then he ran for Congress. "I wonder where he got the money?" Castle mutters to himself. Bob Weldon has twisted Castle's arm on more than one occasion for campaign contributions. Getting into office isn't cheap, and Bracken is portrayed as coming from humble beginnings, although he might have hung around with money. He's listed as being a scholarship student at fairly upper crust Horace Mann. From there he went on to major in poly at Michigan State University and then to Columbia Law School. He passed the N.Y. bar first try, and went from A.D.A., to D.A. He's either very smart, very lucky, or probably both. After three terms as a congressman, he became a senator, and he's been one ever since. Reading between the lines Castle can see that Bracken's been consolidating his power and his position. For what? The presidency? That would be his logical next move if he's questing for more power, but so far there haven't been any public hints that he has any plans in that direction. He paints himself as a dedicated man of the people. Castle wonders which people. The only way to know that would be to get into Bracken's circle of cronies. The quickest way to insinuate himself into that crowd is to make a campaign contribution, a very large campaign contribution, the kind that takes a PAC. He'll just have to track down which PAC is Bracken's treasure chest.

The ringing phone on Kate's desk pulls him away from his search. Castle can tell by the way she jots down the address that there's been a murder. He can continue his web sleuthing later.

* * *

Lanie Parish looks up from the dead body behind a dumpster and casts a tentative glance at Kate, then shifts her gaze to Castle. "Didn't expect you to be back on the hunt so soon. You doing OK, writer boy?"

"Just enjoying your sparkling presence amid the stench of decay, Dr. Parish."

"Uh huh." Lanie regards Kate through lowered lashes. "Everything OK with you too?"

"Fine, Lanie, but Castle is right about the stink. How long has this guy been dead?"

"I'll have to do some tests to be sure, but judging from the decomp, about three days, maybe more. We had a couple of cold nights that might have slowed things down - if he was outside. He wasn't killed here. There wasn't enough blood, and the pattern of where it settled in the body is all wrong. He was dumped."

Ryan strides up with his ever-present notebook in his hand. "Probably not too long ago either. The merchants say this area gets pretty heavy foot traffic and so far, no one remembers seeing - or smelling anything."

Kate nods, regarding the details of the crime scene. "That means the victim must have been kept and possibly killed nearby. Anyone dragging a corpse would have been seen. There are multiple doors opening into this alley. Our vic could have been kept in any of the buildings behind them. Set up…"

"A canvass," Ryan finishes. "I know. There are going to be a lot of doors to knock on."

"I'll talk to Montgomery and see that you have as many hands and feet as you need." She gazes back at Castle, whose color is fading from his face. "We can do that together. You always schmooze him better than I can."

"It's my ineffable charm," Castle insists, grinning, but shuffles wearily after Kate to her car.


	3. Chapter 3

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 3

"Who's the vic?" Montgomery asks.

Kate shrugs. "Unknown. You know the drill sir, no ID. Lanie's going to run the prints in the lab. With the state the body was in, she thinks she can do a better job there, but it may take a while to come up with anything."

"Which is exactly why we need a thorough canvass as soon as possible," Castle sticks in. "Roy, you know the longer we wait, the colder the trail will be."

"Castle, of course, I know that. I have been a cop for a couple of decades now. Fine. Detective, pull whoever you need. And Castle, what the hell are you doing here, anyway? You look like you've been the one lying in an alley. Beckett, take this idiot home and then get your ass back to the crime scene."

"Yes, sir."

Castle cautiously peeks through the door of the loft. There's no sign of life. "Whew! Mother must be at the theater. I knew she was going crazy letting her understudy play her role. It always makes her paranoid. And Alexis has practice for the academic decathlon."

Kate puts her hand on his arm. "That's good Castle. You can get some rest uninterrupted. Are you going to behave yourself or do I have to tuck you in?"

"You could join me to make sure I don't go anywhere."

Kate snorts, rolling her eyes. "In your dreams! Anyway, you heard Montgomery. I've got work to do."

"Fine! But you'll call me if you come up with anything?"

"Sure Castle. Now go unroll your mat and take your nap and if you're really good, I'll give you a sticker."

"Ooh, do you have the ones that smell like strawberry?"

Kate shakes her head. "That's it. I'm getting out of here. See you tomorrow, Castle."

Castle stares down at his bedspread. It's apparent that the housekeeper has been there; it's unwrinkled, and the pillows are perfectly aligned. He almost hates to ruin the picture by climbing in. Getting out of his clothes and into pajamas, even his favorite ones, seems like a lot of work. He settles for stripping down to his T-shirt and shorts and pulling back the sheet as little as possible. As he sleeps, he never hears the ding of a text from the phone that was still in the pocket of his slacks.

* * *

Alexis knocks softly on Castle's bedroom door. "Dad, I'm leaving for school now. Gram's at a sunrise yoga class. Do you need anything before I go?"

Castle props himself up on his elbow and rubs his eyes. "What time is it? What day is it?"

"Eight a.m. and Thursday. You were asleep when I came home last night. I didn't want to wake you. You must have needed it. You look a lot better this morning."

Castle yawns. "Yeah, I guess I did. I do feel better. I'll be fine. You go ahead, or you'll miss your train."

"OK. I made coffee. It's in the kitchen."

"Bless you, my child. Now get going!"

Castle wraps himself in a robe and is pushing his feet into slippers when he hears the buzz of his phone. He regards the screen as he retrieves his cell from the pants he threw on a chair. It's Beckett. "Castle, you must not have gotten my text last night. The lab has a match on the prints. The DB is George Mercer. He's a staffer for Susan Collinwood, the senator from Maine."

Castle sits on the edge of the bed. "A staffer for the senator from Maine. What would he be doing in New York? Wait, Collinwood? She's on the Intelligence Committee!"

"I thought you'd find that interesting. Are you coming to the precinct?"

"Soon as I get some coffee and put my pants on."

"Castle, that is way too much information."

"Right. Be there soon."

* * *

Castle finds Kate staring at the murder board. He studies the timeline she's constructed. "Looks like Lanie was on the button saying Mercer had been dead for three days. It's a wonder that no one missed him."

"Ryan checked with Senator Collinwood's office. According to them, Mercer said he was going to be spending a few days with his family. I called them in Maine, and they had no idea he was in New York. They thought he was in DC. So no one missed him."

"What was he doing in New York?"

"We have no idea, Castle. His sister, Callie Mercer, is flying in from Maine this afternoon. She may know something."

"Kate, do you think this has anything to do with Bracken? There are DC and New York connections."

"Castle, Mercer could be connected to Bracken - or he might have come to New York to see Jersey Boys or the Book of Mormon. Right now we just don't know."

"Anything turn up on the canvass?"

"Maybe. There were a few of the local residents who said they heard a bunch of cats howling in the alley where George Mercer was dumped, about an hour before his body was discovered."

"So will you be interviewing anyone who was in one of the stores that have doors opening on that alley to find out who would have been there at that time?"

"That's the plan, Castle. The boys will be taking some, and I'll be taking some. Care to join me?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

The flush heating Frankie Lesmore's cheeks is spreading across his nose. He toys with the fob of his keys, turning it over and over in his fingers. He keeps his eyes on his hands as he confesses to Kate. "The truth is, I was supposed to be there to take over from José. We switch over at about five o'clock in the morning. But I had a fight with my girlfriend the night before, and I downed too many." He looks imploringly at Castle. "You know how it is, right? Anyway, I slept in and didn't get there until almost seven. José was gone, but the strange thing is he signed me in at five. I thought he was just doing me a favor. But he hasn't come back and the place kind of stank. I think he sprayed some of that pine stuff we keep around for Christmas, but it just made things worse. I opened the doors and turned on the fans to air things out."

Kate sniffs. The taint of death still lingers. "Mr. Lesmore, we're going to have to have our crime scene investigators go over the store. Do you know how to contact the owner?"

"Just wait about five minutes. He comes in to check on me every day. He'll be here, but he won't like this. He won't like this at all."

"Mr. Lesmore, nobody likes a murder."

* * *

Frankie looks at the clock on the shop wall for the tenth time. "Mr. Simmons should be here. He's always here, way before now."

"Does Mr. Simmons live nearby?" Castle asks looking up from the bio of Susan Collinwood on his phone. "He might have gotten stuck in traffic."

"He lives somewhere in Washington Heights, I think. I've heard him mention it a couple of times on the phone when he was talking to his brother."

"And what's his brother's name?" Kate inquires.

"I don't think it's his real name, but he goes by Vulcan, Vulcan Simmons."

Castle can see Kate's eyes narrow as she pulls out her phone and punches in a text. The bleep of an answer comes almost immediately. She turns to Frankie. "I need you to lock this place up. I'll be sending some cops to secure it. Then you can leave, but I'll need all your contact information."

Frankie hurriedly grabs a pad and pen from the counter, scribbles what Kate requested and hands it to her.

"Beckett," Castle asks as they walk back to her unit. "What was all that about?"

"I was pretty sure I'd seen the name Vulcan Simmons in my mother's papers. I checked. Ryan used to work narcotics. He said that Simmons was a major drug dealer in Washington Heights around the time my mother was killed. She was running a campaign to clean up his sales territory. We're finding a bunch of pieces. I just don't know how they all fit together,"

Castle puts his good hand on her shoulder. "Kate, we'll figure it out. We always do."


	4. Chapter 4

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 4

Callie Mercer's eyes are dry, but her nose is red and sore, and there are teeth marks on her bottom lip. "I can't believe this happened. Who would want to kill George?"

"Honestly, Ms. Mercer," Kate replies as gently as she can, "we were hoping you could tell us. Why was your brother in New York?'

Callie pulls at the hem of her shirt. "I have no idea. My parents have wanted him to come to Maine for months, but he's always said he was busy in DC on some project for Senator Collinwood. Have you contacted her office? They might know."

Kate leans forward, making her voice fall to its lowest register. "Unfortunately, they don't know either. Ms. Mercer, has your brother ever mentioned a Simmons, or perhaps a Vulcan?"

"No Simmons. But a Vulcan? I heard him talking on the phone once to someone he called Vulcan, but he's always been a Trekkie, ever since he was a little boy. I thought he was just geeking out."

Kate braces herself for Callie's reaction to her next question. "Has your brother ever used drugs?"

Callie grasps the sides of her chair and begins to rock back and forth. "He got into them for a while when he was in college. He was doing track and field and developed a stress fracture in his foot. He started taking pills for the pain and things just escalated. But he went to one of those 12-step programs. I thought he was clean. He graduated cum laude, then he went to work for Senator Collinwood as an intern and graduated to being a paid staffer. He seemed to be doing so well. Do you think this had something to do with drugs? Was he talking to that Vulcan about drugs?"

"Ms. Mercer, I really don't know, but we have to follow every lead. Do you remember when the conversation took place?"

Callie swipes her hand over her face. "It might have been a year ago, maybe. We were both at our parents' house. George was assuring Vulcan that he was on board or something. That's another reason I thought about Star Trek. I believed he was talking about some imaginary spaceship."

"He could have been," Kate soothes.

"Ms. Mercer," Castle inserts, "I'm quite a Trekkie myself, and we talk about spaceships, well starships, all the time. It's not that unusual."

"Mr. Castle is right," Kate agrees. "But we will be checking out every possibility, and we will do everything we can to find out who killed your brother."

Callie sniffles. Castle offers her a nearby box of tissues, and she blows her nose. "Thank you. And thank you, Detective Beckett. I do appreciate everything you're doing and so do my parents. You will let me know what you find out?"

"Yes of course. Can we get you a coffee? The ride from LaGuardia can be brutal."

Callie nods. "Thanks again."

What do you think, Castle?" Kate asks as he artfully operates the espresso machine.

"I think Vulcan Simmons was George Mercer's supplier, or possibly a lot more, and it was one of those relationships that can end only one way."

Kate closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I was thinking that too. For the sake of Callie and her family, it would be nice if we were wrong."

"It would be," Castle agrees, "but in this case, I don't believe the universe will be that kind. I think we need to know more about Susan Collinwood. She would be the link between Bracken and Mercer if there is one. I originally dismissed her because she didn't seem to have a New York connection. Now I'm rethinking that decision."

"Castle. If you want to research Susan Collinwood, you go ahead. I'm going to talk to CSU about what they found at the Simmons' store - aside from the warring stenches. Check back with each other later?"

"Count on it."

* * *

Castle stretches in his beat-up seat next to Kate's desk. He's tried sitting in her chair a couple of times, but with the five-inch difference in height, the way she has it adjusted doesn't fit him at all, and when he's attempted to change her settings, she hasn't reacted well. His ribs are beginning to protest again, and his hand isn't too fond of him either. He thinks about taking one of the lovely pills the doctor prescribed for him, but he wants to stay clear. Over-the-counter will have to do. By the time he manages to get a bottle of water from the recalcitrant vending machine, Kate is back. "Anything interesting from CSU?"

"Very, Castle. There were no stashes of drugs, but there were traces, matching heroin from Afghanistan as well as fentanyl - domestically produced from what they could tell. There was also DNA matching George Mercer and Vulcan Simmons. Vulcan would have left some at the store anyway, but a sample was with George's. There's a very good chance that Vulcan killed Mercer. He might have been the one that signed in Frankie Lesmore, not José. That could have been an attempt to provide himself with an alibi of sorts, but there were no usable fingerprints on the employee time log."

"So Vulcan Simmons kills a possibly ex-drug user and has him at the store he runs with his brother. How does this connect with Bracken or even Susan Collinwood?"

"I don't know, Castle - yet. What did you find out about the senator from Maine?"

"She has a fascinating history. Her father was a fisherman - lobsters. He went to an early and watery grave. She and her mother struggled along, but Susan managed to earn herself a scholarship to Michigan State University - in poly sci."

"Like Bracken."

"Exactly. They would have been classmates. MSU was a top school for that major, and they both had their eyes on a political career. They ended up at the same law school too, before Susan returned to Maine. She worked her way up from city councilwoman until she landed in the Senate for a reunion with Bracken."

"Any chatter about a romantic relationship?"

"There's always chatter about everything. Every couple of weeks some Nikki Heat fan swears that you're pregnant with my baby." Kate's eyes darken as she grits her teeth. "Hey, I'm just the messenger, and I always do my best to dispel such rumors, not that I wouldn't be proud if they were true. But there's no real evidence of an illicit liaison between Bracken and Collinwood. They're both married. She just uses her maiden name. I think it's more a comradery of the ruthless. She is often seen as a swing vote, which is a strong position to hold. People cater to her, make promises. Being her crony would be extremely useful for Bracken. It would not be unlikely that he would get to know her staff, perhaps quite well. And if Bracken knew through Simmons about Mercer's drug problem, past or present, he could very well have had a hold on him and used him to do his bidding."

Kate nods slowly. "That sounds surprisingly plausible, Castle."

"But perhaps," Castle continues, "Bracken asked Mercer to do something George just couldn't stomach. George might even have threatened to go to the N.Y.P.D. about Bracken's connection to Vulcan Simmons' operation. Maybe that's why he came to New York. Bracken is officially a resident here. But Simmons took Mercer out before he could blow the whistle. He stashed him in the store for a while before dumping him in the alley, which brings us to this moment."

"It's a good story, Castle, but for now, except for Vulcan Simmons' involvement, that's all it is."

Castle pushes out of his chair. "Then we'll just have to find a way to make it more than that."


	5. Chapter 5

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 5

"Where's Beckett?" Castle asks Ryan. "She's not at her desk."

"She called in sick."

"That's not like her."

"No, it isn't. Usually, she'd be here or at a crime scene even if she had to crawl. But there is that flu going around. It can hit you like a ton of bricks. My brother-in-law got it. He works out every day. You wouldn't think it could hit him that hard, but my sister Megan said Frank could barely make it to the bathroom by himself."

"Beckett's in that apartment all alone. I should go check on her."

"Javi and I were going to do that at lunchtime, but it's not a bad idea Castle. Tell her we're thinking about her."

It flits through Castle's mind that more often than not, Kate is what occupies his consciousness as well.

* * *

There aren't many cabs within hailing distance of the precinct, but he manages to snag one for the short trip to Beckett's apartment. He buys a bouquet from a vendor at the corner before knocking softly on her door, not wanting to wake her if she's asleep. She opens it, but she doesn't look sick. "Castle, what are you doing here?"

He holds out the flowers. "Ryan said you called in sick. I was worried about you."

Kate takes the bouquet. "That's a sweet gesture, Castle, and these are nice, but I'm not really sick. I just told the boys that, so they wouldn't have to cover for me." She points to several large boxes of files, papers, and assorted mementos. "I wanted to go through my mother's things. I must have done it a hundred times when I started investigating her death, but I had no idea about Coonan, the other killings, or the significance of Vulcan Simmons. Back then, the detective in charge, Raglan, told me it was a random killing. I didn't believe him - at least not for very long - but I never found anything that pointed to more than that, until you enlisted Dr. Murray and then Lanie reached out to him."

"So are you finding something now?"

"I think so. My mother had a 'Clean Up Our Community' campaign going in Washington Heights. She wanted to get the drugs off the streets. Finding solid evidence against Vulcan Simmons was part of that. Coonan's other victims were all connected to her project in one way or another, at least tangentially. There were some files with names and places passed on to my mother. I never knew what they were for. She made notes about them, but she had her own private alphanumeric shorthand that I could never understand. It isn't any of the standard types."

"A code of some kind?"

Kate shrugs. "Mom loved that kind of stuff. When I was little, she used to make me little treasure maps with ciphers. They were pretty easy to crack, especially since she gave me clues to do it. But what she used in her papers is nothing like any of those."

"Can I see?"

"Sure, Castle. Why not? You can't be any worse at figuring out what she wrote than I am."

Castle flips through a notebook Kate hands him. "DOAPQ 5-11, FFYG 280-6, GS- 190-20. Kate, I recognize these letter sequences. I've used them myself. DOAPQ is _Death of a Prom Queen_ ; FFYG is _Flowers for Your Grave_ ; GS is _Gathering Storm_. Did your mother read my books?"

"She loved them, Castle. After she died, I read them to feel close to her."

"I knew you were a fan! Hey, Beckett, seriously, if my stories helped you get through her death, I'm glad. But about her code, if she used my books for keys, the numerics are probably page numbers and lines. The second numbers don't go up high enough to be individual words. I have copies of all my books. We could go to my loft to start figuring all this out."

Kate blushes. "No need, Castle. I have all your books here, even the ones you published after my mother's death."

"I'm flattered Kate, honestly. Show me where you hide them and let's get started."

* * *

Kate points to a line in _Flowers for Your Grave_. "Look, Castle! This is a reference to a crooked D.A. That had to have been Bracken!"

"And in _Hell Hath No Fury_ ," Castle adds, the evil warlock is having his minions take out anyone who can tie him to his crimes. It looks like Bracken was having people killed off even before Coonan went after your mother. His minions may be Simmons' people. Your mother put together quite a trail for us."

A smile gradually brightens Kate's face. "Even so long after she's been gone, she's still going to help us find justice. She'd like that."

"Like mother, like daughter. It looks like you like it too."

"I do, Castle, more than I've liked anything in a very long time."

* * *

Colby Chesmire finally finds some time to activate his satellite phone. It's well into the wee hours in Iraq, which will make it daytime in New York. Castle had left him a couple of messages, but he was too much in the thick of things to answer them. The Kurds are deadly and efficient fighters, in many cases more so than American troops. They know the territory, and they're acclimatized. He wishes he were; he's always too hot or too cold. But he's going to have a great story to tell. It looks like Castle is putting together everything it will take for a good yarn too, even if his version will be fictionalized. He's pegged one and possibly two, crooked senators. Bracken's history is particularly fascinating.

When the time comes, Colby may have his own exposé of the Senator's whole evil web, but for now, he'll keep gathering as many details of the fight against ISIL that he can, and profiling the Kurds involved. A portrait of the woman at the helm of many of the battles may win him a Pulitzer all on its own. Most Americans wouldn't even picture a female heading up a band of soldiers in this part of the world. They will when he's finished.

He hopes Castle's research turns out to be as fruitful, but he's worried that it may also put his friend and his new muse in the crosshairs. At least here, there are helmets and flak jackets, and everyone is prepared to protect themselves from flying bullets and shrapnel. An attack from someone working for Bracken could come from anywhere at any time. That's the hardest kind to fend off. He urges Castle to be careful and hopes he'll take his advice, and that Kate Beckett will keep her head down too, but from what he's learned of her so far, she's driven. That can be very effective, but it can also be deadly.

If he's any judge, Castle is more worried about Kate than he is about himself. Muse his ass! Rick's in love with the woman. She is beautiful, no question about that, and smart. But if Castle isn't careful, immersing himself in the detective's obsession may be the last thing he ever immerses himself in. Colby visualizes Kate Beckett the way Castle portrayed her in Naked Heat. Uh huh. There could be worse ways to go, especially if the particular fictitious scene he has in mind becomes a reality — much worse ways to go.


	6. Chapter 6

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 6

"Any word on where we can find Vulcan Simmons?" Kate asks Ryan.

"His brother isn't talking, and we don't have much else to go on. We checked the property database, but the store is rented, and if Simmons owns anything, it isn't under his own name."

Kate drops her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk and slams it shut. "Figures. Whatever he has is probably under a shell corporation, but those can be called anything."

"Where's writer boy?" Esposito asks before biting into a jelly doughnut.

"He should be here soon. He was helping Alexis take a science project to school. I think he said something about a model that argues that Pluto should be called a planet again."

"That sounds good. I was bummed when the astronomers demoted it," Ryan admits.

"Yeah, it didn't seem right," Esposito agrees, "after Mickey Mouse named his dog after the planet."

The elevator doors part and Castle strides quickly to join the detectives at the murder board. "Any luck tracking down Vulcan Simmons?"

"Nah, probably hiding behind some phony corporation," Esposito replies as Ryan catches Kate's eye and shakes his head.

"Can you get a list of the corporations that own property in Washington Heights?" Castle asks. "Maybe something about one of the names will ring a bell."

Kate turns to face him. "Castle, we can get one. It will be a hell of a longshot, but right now I can't think of a better idea."

Castle settles into the worn chair next to Kate's desk as she types her request for the documents he wants. "Kate, if we're going to tie your mother' murder to Bracken, we'll need another list - all the cold homicides from the time when Bracken was D.A. and would have been able to kibosh the investigations. Some of them should match up with your mother's notes."

"I know, Castle. But right now our only official investigation is of George Mercer's murder. We both think they're related through Vulcan Simmons, but letters and numbers my mother wrote in the margins of papers in her files don't prove it."

"So what do we do?"

"Work on Mercer's case from here. I'll do the best I can to get the information we need, but for now, we'll have to work on my mother's murder outside the precinct."

"We could use my loft. When you saw the outline for one of my books on the screen in my office, you compared it to a murder board - but it's a lot cooler. We can use my computer system. I have a lot of subscriptions to resources I use to research my books. Except for restricted documents, we can dig into anything. Mother is at the theater most nights and Alexis is usually busy studying. We could get a lot done."

"What about your own writing, Castle?"

"Maybe if I'm lucky, we'll find something that will inspire my next book, but Kate, I really want to help you find what you need to put that bastard, Bracken in a hole. The deepest one we can find."

"I'm with you on that, Castle."

* * *

Rick shares the conference room with Kate, scanning through the printout of corporate names. Most of them aren't very creative. There are a lot of initials which could signify anything and some optimistic appellations like Blue Skies and Pot o' Gold. Somehow those sound too fanciful for Vulcan Simmons. Usually, images like that are meant to pull in investors, and the last thing Simmons would want would be attention. Castle rubs his eyes and goes through the listings again. How could he have missed that? It's practically whistling at him from the page. "Hephaestus Enterprises!"

Kate looks up. "What, Castle?"

"Hephaestus, god of fire! He's the Greek equivalent of the Roman Vulcan. Simmons would have to have an ego to choose a moniker like that, but unless someone is running a blacksmithing operation, there would be no reason to give a company that name. Kate, we need everything we can find on Hephaestus. I'd call it Heph for short, except that would conjure up very different if titillating images."

Kate pictures busty women in bunny ears and tails. "I imagine it would for you, Castle. Fine, let's dig into Hephaestus and hope there's a man behind the myth." She consults her watch. "Look, my shift is almost over. If you were serious about your offer to launch our investigation into my mother's murder from your loft, it would be a good time to shift locations."

Castle leans across the table. "Kate, I was as serious as a shark attack."

* * *

The marinated chicken Castle fed her for dinner was excellent, but Kate's stomach roils as she reads the case report of an 18-year-old murder. The cops had a suspect, a good one, but somehow the evidence against him pulled a disappearing act and not long after that, the only witness died in a one-car automobile accident. The only question is: was Bracken responsible for two murders or one. It's the third case like this she's found. Castle has discovered four, and they're not even a quarter of the way through the list. She can think of only one word for Bracken, at least one printable one - monster. And now that he's in a seat of real power, she can only imagine how much blood is dripping from his well-manicured fingers. But she and Castle need to take their investigation one step at a time.

If they can find the homicide with the most clues remaining and nail whatever Bracken lackey committed it, they can follow the breadcrumbs from there. That's going to mean more than one late night in Castle's loft. At the thought, visions come to her mind that have nothing to do with solving murders.

The stubble that's sprouted on Castle's jaw during the long day is making him look roguish, almost piratical. The hair falling over his forehead is crying for her fingers to push it back. He smells good too. No man should smell that good after working that many hours. She shakes herself. Distractions are the last thing she needs right now and thinking about Castle that way is a huge one. Still, the look in his eyes as he pointed out his latest find to her - does anyone else have eyes that color? Damn! They're blue! Well grayish blue, but they're just eyes. She's been at this too long. "Castle, it's getting late. I need to go."

"Are you sure? I'm almost through this page."

"Yeah. I need to be at the precinct for the start of my shift in the morning. Nobody's going to buy the sick excuse again. But listen. You look exhausted. You could sleep in and join me later."

"Kate, I have a teenage daughter going off to school first thing in the morning and a mother who wakes up before the sun to do her vocalization. I'll be up, and I'll be there with your coffee. Want to go crazy and have your pumps of vanilla with sugar in them?"

"Castle, I think the caffeine will do - and thanks. I'll see you in…" She checks her watch, "six hours."

"I'll be there. And I might even bring you a bear claw."

Why does he have to be so damn sweet? "All right, Castle. See you then." She'd better leave before she loses her will to go.

A/N For those of you who read them, I have another _The Rookie_ story out called "Rebound."


	7. Chapter 7

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 7

Kate isn't sure how anxious she is for Castle to show up, with or without coffee and a bear claw. She hadn't slept much, her bed suddenly seeming cold and empty. She hadn't felt that way in a long time, if ever. When Will went off to Boston, she'd hardly missed him.

It had been much the same with her other boyfriends. She enjoyed the sex - most of it. It was also nice to have a plus one for the six weddings at which she'd been a bridesmaid and for various other social occasions. But she had never jumped into a relationship with both feet. It was safer that way.

One reason she'd kept Castle at arm's length was that somewhere in the back of her mind, from the moment she sat across from him in the box, she sensed that if she let him get close, he'd get too close, breaching the wall she'd built against feeling more pain. But last night that barrier had begun to crack. Maybe he'd been wearing away at it for a long time, but as he worked to solve what is essentially her problem, the intrusion became palpable. It was soul-filling and terrifying all at once.

She knows it's him, even before he gets off the elevator. He's carrying coffees and a bakery bag, still a little clumsily because his hand isn't healed yet. He grins as he gives her the bag and puts a cup on her desk. "A bear claw and a non-fat latte with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla as promised. Any info on Hephaestus?"

Kate jerks herself back to thinking about the case. "The financials haven't come in yet. It may be a few hours, but you gave me an idea. I've been looking for businesses with names that have meanings related to what a god of fire might do. Here, there's a car repair shop in the Heights, called The Forge. I thought we might check it out."

"If that is one of Vulcan Simmons' operations, they won't be inclined to reveal much to a cop."

"Probably not, Castle, but do you have a better idea?"

"How about if we drive up there with an old muscle car that I say I want to fix up to take to car shows?"

"Castle, I don't think the motor pool stocks those."

"One of the writers I know buys junkers and fixes them up as a hobby. If I recall, at our last poker game, he was bragging about two new acquisitions. He owes me for putting out a dynamite promo for his last book. I even read the thing first. We could borrow one of his new projects for a while. He might even get some free work done on it in the bargain if the Forge is any good. And believe me, if you flash that Beckett smile at him, he won't be able to resist. The car will give us a reason to hang around the shop, maybe strike up a conversation or two, while we wait for an estimate on repairs. It's worth giving it a shot, isn't it?"

"Might as well, Castle. At this point, we have nothing to lose."

* * *

Kate hadn't imagined that the car Castle had in mind would be a '67 Mustang. The "pony style" car had always appealed to her as just plain sexy, as well as having her respect for what is under the hood. That it's a convertible just adds to the fantasy of whipping down the highway in search of adventure. But there's no whipping through New York City traffic. It takes more than an hour to make it from the garage in Queens where Castle's friend houses the car, up to the Forge. The obvious interest of the crew as they eye both her and the vehicle seems to be worth the drive. She and Castle immediately strike up a conversation with the men about the joys of big engines and aerodynamic design. At a casual reference to a boss who likes cars with real power, Kate grabs her opportunity to ask just who the boss might be. The mechanic she's talking to immediately excuses himself to go check on something, after a warning glance from his manager. It makes sense. If Vulcan Simmons owns the Forge, he wouldn't necessarily want it to become public knowledge. She and Castle are directed to seats in the lounge to await the results of the car's assessment.

Castle takes a cautious sip from a cup of the coffee put out for customers. "This has a hint of chicory. That tracks. I believe I remember something in Simmons' file about his having connections in New Orleans. Maybe his family is from there. I'm not sure what difference that would make, except for being another piece of the puzzle."

"It could be a big piece, Castle. New Orleans is a major port, not just to the gulf but for everything that goes up and down the Mississippi. It would be a base for transporting all kinds of contraband, including drugs."

"Are you suggesting that the Simmons family might be old hands at illicit operations?"

"I don't know, Castle. Chicory in the coffee isn't much to base assumptions on, but it's something to check out."

Castle pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Which is something to do while we're sitting here. Simmons, smugglers, New Orleans. Eureka! Beckett, there's a whole story here. There was a slave owner named Simmons whose activities regarding the transportation of goods were shall we say, questionable. He forced his slaves to participate in his activities. For the most part, they learned to run the operation, which was under the Simmons name. He was killed during the Civil War, and after they were emancipated, they left his plantation and moved to New Orleans. They were good at what they did, handling all manner of cargo, legal and otherwise. The descendants are still there, and some of them called themselves Simmons - for business purposes perhaps. From all appearances, Simmons shipping is legitimate now, but there were apparently some rogue participants in the organization that struck out on their own. Vulcan may be one of those. He'd have quite a wealth of history and connections to know how to move just about anything including heroin, fentanyl, or even something more exotic."

Kate takes a sip of her own coffee, wrinkling her nose at the bitterness that accompanies the spice. "That would make him a useful partner for Bracken for more than just taking out threats like George Mercer."

"And vice versa. As D.A., Bracken could have given Simmons carte blanche to operate. As a congressman and a senator, he would have been in a position to lend Simmons cover as well. That makes tracking down Simmons more important than ever."

"Castle, considering the coffee, and the way the crew here is afraid to talk about him, he must be at least spending some time here. He's a murder suspect. That easily justifies staking this place out. I'll set up a 24-hour watch. Whenever he shows up, we'll get him."

"And were you planning on taking a shift on that watch yourself?"

"Sure, I'm the primary."

"Want some company?"

Kate knows she's asking for trouble if she accepts. In a car alone with Castle for eight hours? She should pair up with another detective but… "OK, Castle just don't forget to bring some coffee without the chicory in it."

"Nothing but the finest beans."


	8. Chapter 8

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 8

It's cold in Kate's unit. There was a January thaw, but it disappeared overnight. The temperature outside is low enough for snow to stick. Kate turns on the engine to run the heater intermittently but is keeping it to a minimum to avoid attracting attention. She's dressed in layers, but nothing bulky enough to restrict her movement. Castle is wearing a heavy topcoat, and she wishes she could crawl inside it with him - and not just because she's chilly. In the close quarters, he smells even better this morning than he did at night at the loft. And he's been patiently listening to her spout off about investigations, even though he's written about almost every detail she's discussed, in one or another of his books.

The employees arrived at six a.m. So far, there's been no sign of Vulcan Simmons. It is only 10 a.m. now, but it could be a very long day. Or not. A Lincoln Town Car drives up and pulls into the Forge. Kate can't be certain, but she's pretty sure that the man at the wheel was Vulcan Simmons. A check of the plate shows it registered to Hephaestus corporation. No way can that be a coincidence. She calls in the troops, with an advisory to keep their distance. If they wait for Simmons to leave the building, there will be much less chance of innocents being injured if Simmons resists.

"How long do you think he'll be in there?" Castle wonders.

Kate drums her fingers against the steering wheel. "I have no idea, Castle. I'm hoping that he has multiple operations to look in on, like the store where he stashed George Mercer's body, and he won't be staying long."

"You really want to get him in the box, don't you?"

"Castle, I'd like to do a lot more than get him in the box. I wish I could send him straight to Hell. But we need him alive and well to establish his connection to Bracken, so, for now, I'll have to settle for seeing him shackled to a table and praying that he and his lawyer are smarter than we are."

"I think that would have to be a pretty great prayer for him to outthink the remarkable Kate Beckett."

Kate ignores the warmth flooding through her at his words. "Castle, I hope you're right. Looks like his car pulling out." She picks up her radio. "Suspect in Lincoln exiting the building. Castle, stay in the car," she commands.

Marked units barricade either end of the street to block Simmons escape. Kate approaches the halted Lincoln, weapon drawn and with several uniformed officers behind her. Vulcan Simmons emerges from the car with his hands behind his head and a smirk. "You cops never stop trying, do you? Go ahead. You won't find anything on me or in the car. I'll be back about my business by lunch."

Kate snaps her cuffs on him as tightly as she can. Vulcan Simmons, you are under arrest for the murder of George Mercer. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?"

Simmons' smirk has morphed into shock. "I want my lawyer."

"You can call him as soon as I get you processed. And Simmons," Kate adds, "I don't need to find anything on you or in the car. Right now you should be wishing that you were only being busted for drugs."

* * *

To Castle, Simmons' lawyer, Carlton Frasier, is a classic. The three-piece suit he's wearing is hand-tailored. His shoes are Italian and most likely too pointy for his feet. His briefcase had to cost several hundred dollars and his pen a fair chunk of change as well. But Frasier doesn't look happy as Kate explains the charge that she will be recommending to the A.D.A. First degree homicide may be a little above his pay grade.

As serious as the expression on Kate's face is, Castle can tell that she's pleased with herself. She hasn't been twisting the jade ring she plays with when she's upset, and her shoulders, usually tight with tension, are relaxed. A smile tugs at her lips as Frasier suggests a deal. "What does your client have to trade?'

* * *

"So, Vulcan Simmons is willing to throw Bracken under the bus. Why isn't the A. D.A. turning handsprings?" Castle asks.

"Because at this point it's a he said, he said, Castle and one of them is a respected Senator and the other is a scumbag drug dealer. She doesn't think a case against Bracken will ever fly in court. We got a warrant to search The Forge, but there weren't any records of correspondence with Bracken there. There wasn't anything on Simmons' phone either. Bracken is keeping himself well protected. We need more, a lot more, to go after him."

"How about the connection to Susan Collinwood?"

"Castle, her offices are in DC and Maine. I have no jurisdiction in either place. If she was in New York for some reason, we might be able to ask her some questions politely, but why would she be?"

"Her father was a seaman. The Seaport Museum is going to have a celebration of U.S. seafaring next week coupled with a drive to protect our fisheries. I have a friend on the board. I could try to get Collinwood a VIP invitation. It's just the sort of photo-op politicians love. She could play up her humble beginnings and her support for good works all at the same time. I could get us a couple of tickets too. You could size up your opportunities, take your opening. You can do it, Kate. I've seen you maneuver people into spilling their secrets. You're a master at it."

Kate presses her lips together and shoves her hair behind her ear. "In the interrogation room, Castle, but not at gala events."

"Hey, we did a pretty good job of tracking down a crook at one before, even with my mother pulling a number on me with the auction."

"Castle the look on your face when that barracuda bid on you was worth going to the event, even if we hadn't broken the case."

"See, you could have more fun at my expense."

"Castle, right now I'm not interested in having fun. I just want to get Bracken. But if you can get Senator Collinwood to New York, fine. We can go to the event. I still have the dress you bought me. It's gorgeous."

"And totally wrong for this time of year. I'll get things set up, and we can go shopping. How do you feel about cashmere?"

"Castle. Please. You've blown enough money on trying to catch my mother's killer. We still haven't retrieved the hundred thousand you wired to Coonan's phony Rathborne account."

"Montgomery told me the financial people are going through the process. They may get it back any day. Look, Kate, it's only a dress. Gina practically wore holes in my credit card, and she never looked half as beautiful as you did on my arm, work-related as it may have been. I want to do this. Let me enjoy the view."

Kate chews on her lip and twists her ring. "All right, Castle. If we'll really be meeting Senator Collinwood, we can go shopping." Castle closes his eyes and shakes his head. "What's the matter?" Kate asks.

"I just never knew a woman before who made it so hard for me to spend money. Kate Beckett, you are one of a kind."


	9. Chapter 9

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 9

The upscale boutique reminds Kate of a scene from _Pretty Woman_ where Richard Gere has the sycophantic store manager instruct his salespeople to bring Julia Roberts all manner of beautiful clothes - except that unlike Richard Gere, Castle isn't gluing himself to his phone. His expression grows more appreciative with every dress she tries on. None of them have price tags. Probably, if you have to ask, you can't afford them. She hasn't been in a situation even close to this since her brief stint as a model, and then she couldn't keep the clothes.

Tovah brings her a dress in emerald green. It's not a color she would usually wear, except perhaps for a hat on St. Patrick's Day, but Mary-Kate exclaims that Kate's eyes are changing color to match her gown.

"Just like when Dorothy gets spruced up in the merry old land of Oz," Castle quips. "Hopefully without the wicked witch showing up - at least until we're ready for her. So, Detective Beckett, what do you think?"

Kate smooths her hands down the luxurious fabric. "It's incredible, Castle."

"But do you like it?" He persists.

Tovah leads Kate to the triple mirror. The image staring back at her is startling, and Tovah was right about her eyes. Even without a professional makeup job, she looks at least as good as she had when she'd been paid to look fabulous. She glances back at Castle. He seems hopeful. She is not going to do any better. She may never do better - she means the dress, she tells herself. She nods at Tovah and turns around. "Ok, Castle. This one should work."

* * *

The Seaport Museum has been transformed. "Lights blaze everywhere and the ships in the harbor are lit up as well. Guests mill around carrying drinks and sampling hors-d'oeuvres. Kate entered the fest on Castle's arm and has stuck close to him as he's worked the room where she knows absolutely no one. She recognizes a few faces from the newspaper and stories on social media, but that's the extent of her familiarity with the crowd - until Susan Collinwood comes in with what is either an aide or a bodyguard, maybe both.

A podium has been set up at one end of the exhibition hall. A gray-haired man in a yachting cap takes a place behind it and taps on the microphone to gain attention. "Good evening. For those of you who don't know me, I am Samson Frid, director of the Museum and I am pleased to welcome you all to this extraordinary night. As many of you may know, the history of this country was built on seafaring. Many of our ancestors arrived in ships. Early colonists supported themselves both by trade and by fishing. Along our coasts, fresh seafood is still a treasured part of our menus. Unfortunately, with every passing year, our fisheries grow more depleted. Our ships must quest further and stay out longer to bring in the same catch. That is a situation that should not and must not stand. Helping us lead the battle to save the vital resources of the sea, is our special guest, Senator Susan Collinwood of Maine. I am pleased to invite her up here now, to tell you just how much our oceans mean to her and why it is imperative that we do all we can to maintain their health. Senator Collinwood."

For all her political success, Susan Collinwood doesn't look particularly impressive. Her unflattering bob is a dull brown streaked with gray. Her suit is wrinkled, her hands flutter, and her voice has a slight tremor, yet she begins speaking with the confidence borne of long experience. "It is truly my pleasure to be here for such an outstanding event. My father was a lobsterman, and I grew up in a community given life by the sea. Our oceans are our most essential resource. Not only do they feed us, transport us and entertain us, but they are also indispensable in maintaining the climate we need to survive. So, I'm asking you all tonight to do two things. Dig deep to support the preservation of our fisheries and call your representatives and my honored colleagues of the Senate and urge them to support my coastal resources preservation bill. For if our oceans die, we will surely follow them into oblivion."

The applause from the audience seems heartfelt to Kate, and her own hands came together enthusiastically as well. She's beginning to wonder if Collinwood is the real deal who had the misfortune to get tied up with Bracken. She'll do the best she can to find out one way or another. "Castle, we need to go talk to her."

"Wait just a bit, Beckett," Castle cautions. "She'll have a whole congratulatory crowd around her, probably for the next 20 minutes or so, before they want another drink. Then I'll get Samson to make introductions, and you can sit at a table with her and use your mojo. Do you want something from the bar in the meantime? They have an offering called 'The Captain's Beer.' I'm not sure what it is, but I see some suspiciously bright smiles on the people drinking it."

"Castle I'm going to stick with sparkling water. I need to be on my game."

"One sparkling water coming up, but I think I'm going to try that beer, as an adventure."

Castle discovers that the captain's choice for beer looks and tastes remarkably like rum - and good rum at that. The liquor is not usually his drink unless it's an ingredient in some tropical concoction, but it fits the nautical theme well enough, and he's not planning on driving. Kate is fidgeting by the time he hands her the water she requested and seeks out Samson Frid.

Samson claps him on the shoulder. "Rick, asking Senator Collinwood to come was a great idea. I think she's limbered up a lot of check-writing fingers. Of course, yours was limber enough. Your donation was very generous."

"Well in that case, perhaps you'll do me the favor of introducing my lovely companion and me to the senator. Kate is fascinated by the work Collinwood is doing."

"And who wouldn't be fascinated by Kate? If Naked Heat is anything to go by, you're a lucky man, Rick."

Castle blanches. "Oh God! Don't say that to her! We're just… We haven't… I mean she's my muse."

"Then I don't know what the hell you're waiting for. If Kate wants a powwow with the senator, maybe that will move things along for you. Let's get things going!"

As Samson Frid gets them settled at his table, Susan Collinwood nods at Rick. "Mr. Castle, you did some interesting work researching Derrick Storm. Maybe a little too interesting on occasion. I am on the Intelligence Committee. I'm aware of your activities."

Kate sends a puzzled gaze to Castle. "I'll explain later," he whispers.

"And Detective Beckett, his new inspiration. What was it you wanted to know about my work on the preservation of coastal resources?"

"I was wondering if you'd written anything into your bill about getting rid of all the plastic in the ocean," Kate replies, "but to be honest, Senator Collinwood, as a homicide cop, there's something else I need to talk to you about."

Susan's eyes narrow, "About the plastic, we have written some limited measures into the bill, but we are fighting tooth and nail against the soft drink industry among others. It's a work in progress. To the other matter, I assume you're talking about the unfortunate death of George Mercer. He was a fine man and a valued member of my staff. I understand that you caught his murderer. What do you need from me?"

"Senator, I believe that Vulcan Simmons was not acting on his own. Someone ordered him to kill Mr. Mercer; someone with a lot of power. Any idea who that might be?"

Susan scans the room nervously. "I can't talk to you about that now." She passes Kate a card. "That's my private number. Call me. I really need to leave. There's a floor vote first thing in the morning." She signals to her burly escort and hurriedly departs the gathering.


	10. Chapter 10

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 10

Kate is working hard to resist snuggling into Castle's shoulder in the back of the limo. The night brought everything he'd promised her and more. She had her chance to talk to Susan Collinwood and better still; she received an invitation to private communication. The Senator's nervousness at the mention of Bracken made it evident that there's a story there.

Then there was what Collinwood dropped about the Intelligence Committee and Castle's activities. What could that be about? She'll ask him, but not in the back of a chauffeur driven car where the driver can potentially hear every word. She won't have a chance tonight. She'd told Castle to have her dropped off at her apartment on his way back to his loft. It had seemed the most sensible - and safest - thing to do, but now she is regretting it.

There are only a few blocks left on her trip, less than five minutes. It is too long a span and at the same time not long enough. Being with Castle is getting more and more confusing all the time. She needs to relax. It's late, but without a hot bath and a glass of wine, she's unlikely to be able to fall asleep anyway. Under the circumstances, losing herself to the bubbles and a good soak is the wisest thing to do. It is. It really is.

* * *

Very much alone, Castle lets himself into the loft. In all likelihood, Alexis is either asleep or immersed in a book she can't put down. Mother had said something about an after-theater supper with the latest man on her graydar. According to her description, he's been in show business as long as she has - just another end of it, moving up from a gofer for a director into eventually producing his own shows.

Castle isn't sure if his mother is more interested in the man or her next role. Either way, the fellow will keep her occupied. Not that he needs her to be, without Kate hard at work at the loft, he's hoping that he might even get a halfway decent night's sleep for a change, but he probably won't be able to. Kate's on his mind and affecting him lower down, but that's pretty much a constant situation. More immediately troubling is the slip Susan Collinwood made about the CIA.

It's not that Kate doesn't know he has connections. He proved that when he called in the deceptively harmless-appearing Agent Gray. But she has no idea just how deep into the world of intrigue he's gone, or what he did while he was there. She's going to want to know now. There's no way she can resist that kind of a mystery. Some of it he just can't tell her. Spilling classified information isn't on the table, even for Kate. He's just hoping she won't ask too many questions about his inspiration for Clara Strike. To say the least, it would be awkward to confess that he slept with his former muse. He's not sure if it would be more or less so because that particular relationship fell apart.

If he ever does end up together with Kate as more than a friend and partner in crime-busting, it won't be the same as it was with Sophia. He was sexually attracted to the spy, despite the fact that she's seven years older than he is. She was playing teacher, and an excellent teacher at that, in bed and out. But he never felt the more profound longing for her that he feels for Kate. He could see Sophia as a bed partner, but he could never visualize her as a life partner. Kate is a different story. He can see having a family with her, even growing old with her. It's a lot to imagine considering that the only time he even kissed her was on the cheek. Still, dreams of the moment invade both his slumber and his days. He has no doubt that tonight will be any different.

Any effects of the rum are gone, and he doesn't dare have more alcohol. A hangover is the last thing his morning will need. Maybe some genuinely boring TV will do the trick. Too bad Johnny Vong is off the air, but there are plenty of other infomercials to drive him into obliviousness. If he slips into the comfort of his softest pajamas, he'll be ready.

* * *

"Did you call her yet?" Castle asks, even before taking his chair at Kate's desk and handing her his morning offering of caffeine.

"I was waiting for you, but I don't want to do it in the bullpen, or even in the precinct. We can trust the boys. But with all the contacts Bracken made over the years, the walls may still have ears."

Castle leans on his elbow, supporting his chin with his hand. "So where do you want to go? My loft?"

"It's as good a place as any, but not until I take lunch. I've got plenty of paperwork to occupy me until then. I don't suppose you want to help?"

Castle shrugs. "Despite my prodigious talents with the written word, not exactly my favorite thing about police work, but it will make the time go faster. What would you like me to do?"

"I need a narrative exactly detailing our collar of Vulcan Simmons. That should be right in your wheelhouse, but Castle, spare me the pulpish prose."

Castle pushes out his bottom lip. "Detective Beckett, I will have you know, I am wounded, just wounded. I do not write pulp. Black Pawn always springs to have my books printed on low acid paper."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Good to know, Castle, but you're not going for a Poe award. Just describe the events. If you want to dictate to your phone, you can email it to me, and I'll insert the text into my report."

"Roger that. What are you going to be doing?"

"The usual. Filling out endless forms."

"Our tax dollars at work," Castle declares, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

Despite her busy work, Kate's watch ticks slowly toward noon, until she finally pulls her purse from her drawer and takes her coat from the back of her chair. "Ready Castle?"

"For the last couple of hours. I'm as anxious to hear what Susan Collinwood has to say as you are. I just hope she's not going to lunch."

* * *

After her early morning vote, Susan Collinwood returns to the small apartment she rents in DC instead of going to her office. She suspects Kate Beckett will be calling and the last thing she wants is to be overheard. She swept for bugs when she got up, but decides to do it again, just to be sure. She's aware of too many people who have ticked off Bracken for one reason or another, only to disappear or meet with a tragic accident. So far, she's pursued the strategy of keeping her friends close and her enemies closer, but if the detective is asking about Bracken, she might have something that could pry him from his seat of power permanently. Susan can only hope. She's just finished fixing herself a sandwich to go with a cup of black coffee when her private cell buzzes. It's Detective Beckett.


	11. Chapter 11

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 11

Kate runs her tongue around her dry lips. She brushes Castle's hand as he sits next to her at the table and puts a finger to her mouth as she activates the speaker of her cell phone. "Senator Collinwood, this is Kate Beckett. I believe that you had something you needed to tell me about Senator Bracken."

As she begins to speak, the tremor in Susan's voice is more pronounced than the night before. "Detective Beckett, half the population of the Hill lives in fear of William Bracken and the other half are too oblivious or inexperienced to. Most of us here enjoy power or we would be doing something else, but Bracken lives and breathes for it. He has been that way for every moment since I met him in college. He had to lead every political organization or run it from behind the scenes. Other students who crossed him suddenly found themselves accused of cheating or plagiarism. He ruined them, and I don't believe he even thought twice about it.

"He led the pack in law school too. No one could win against him in a moot court or even a debate. But he also had a talent for digging up dirt on anyone and everyone - students, professors; it didn't matter. He used his leverage to be recommended for the clerkship he wanted. He must have had an easy road to becoming D.A. and moving up from there.

"I'm sure I only know about a fraction of what he has his fingers into in this country and around the world. Being on the Intelligence Committee gives him access to an incredible amount of information. And now that he's beginning to push for a nomination for the presidency, anything could happen. But I can tell you this. I'm 100 percent sure he was behind the death of George Mercer. George told me that he knew things about Bracken, about where he was getting his funding. He wanted me to go to the Ethics Committee, to blow the whistle. I told him no; that he didn't know what he could be letting himself in for. I urged him not to say anything to anyone else. The next thing I knew, you were investigating George's murder. You may have that drug dealer for it, but Bracken is just as, if not even guiltier. And Detective, be careful. Just by even mentioning Bracken, you have a target on your back, and so does Mr. Castle. I may have put one on mine, just by talking to you."

Kate clasps Castle's hand. "Senator Collinwood, please do whatever you can to keep yourself safe - and I will be watching my back and Mr. Castle's as well."

Collinwood sounds even shakier. "Good luck, Detective. You'll need it."

Castle stares across the table as the screen of Beckett's phone goes dark. "Kate, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Rick, I was always in, from the moment my mother was murdered, but maybe you'd be better off if you pulled away - put some distance between us."

Castle springs out of his chair shaking his head. "No way, Beckett, I don't abandon my partners just because the going gets rough."

"Partners? What are you talking about, Castle? What did Collinwood mean when she said she knew about you because she was on the Intelligence Committee?"

Castle drops back into his chair and covers his face with his hand. "Kate, when P.I. Derrick Storm became spy Derrick Storm; I didn't just pull what I wrote about the CIA out of thin air, any more than I make up police procedure when I write about Nikki Heat. My source was a real CIA agent."

"Agent Gray?"

"No. I know him. He was a liaison on some of the cases I followed, but I did have a partner."

"There was a real Clara Strike?"

"No. She wasn't Clara Strike any more than you're Nikki Heat - a lot less actually. We worked together for about a year while I was learning how the CIA operated. They tolerated my presence - encouraged it actually because as a best-selling author I could travel around the world without anyone thinking much about it. I could ask all sorts of questions and chalk it up to research for my books. Sometimes it was, but I was also gathering intel. The model for Clara wasn't so much my partner as my handler, so we had to spend a lot of time together and be able to trust each other. We were close."

"How close, Castle?"

"Probably as close as you imagine - for a while anyway. But honestly, I think she got bored with me. And the CIA enlisted other sources. They always do, to gain fresh insights and contacts. After that, I settled back into just being a writer, and having access to Gray is the one perk I retained from my tenure with the company."

"So I'm your second muse. Or have there been others?"

"Kate, you are my only muse, the only one I've ever had or needed. Back then, I had no trouble writing. If anything, I couldn't have stopped. I had multiple best-sellers before I came up with Derrick Storm. To be honest, the way that relationship ended, slowed me down. I suppose you could call it a crisis of confidence. After I wrote Storm Fall and divorced Gina, I wasn't sure I had any more books in me. When you dragged me into the precinct from my book party, I hadn't written a word in nine months, and Black Pawn was threatening to drop me. You brought me back to the keyboard, gave me something - and someone - new to write about. You pulled me from the abyss. It's only right that I do the same for you. I need to do the same for you. And if Bracken sends someone after us, we'll deal with it - together.

"All right, Castle. I think Senator Collinwood gave us a lot to work with. It sounds to me like Bracken has left a very long trail of people who would like nothing more than to see him hanging by his private parts."

Castle nods. "Given his history, there may have been a lot of his victims or potential victims, politicians, lawyers, political operatives, who've managed to build power bases of their own. If we start looking at who came out of his alma maters while he was there, we may find some very willing brothers and sisters in arms. We just have to follow the slime he left behind. We could start by pulling his yearbooks. I've used all manner of tidbits from those to develop characters for my books. We can probably start with the debate club. That could have been the source of some of the more able challengers to Bracken's status as top dog. And if he had a fraternity, we need to check out the members of that too. No one is more likely to have dirt on him than his compatriots in hoisting and hurling a few."

"Personal experience, Castle?"

"No. I wasn't a member of a fraternity. I spent my spare hours writing, not partying. But I've also spent enough time in college bars, even if I was nursing one beer to keep possession of a table to write on, to know who had the stories. It was usually the Greeks. Many of the houses keep chronicles too. You can dig them up if you know where to look."

Kate looks down at her watch. "Castle, I need to be back at the precinct in fifteen minutes. But maybe we can start turning over those rocks tonight."

"I'll go back with you. We can take care of what's left of that paperwork together. I'll even buy you, both of us, hotdogs on the way."

"Castle, you have a deal."


	12. Chapter 12

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 12

"Castle, who are you calling?" Kate queries as Rick pulls out his phone before taking his customary seat.

"Old friend. He runs a security company. I need him to have eyes on Alexis and mother. As far as we've heard up until now, Bracken hasn't extended his purges to family members, but I need to be sure they'll be safe."

"Of course you do. It's a good idea. You could use some security yourself."

"I'm with the best homicide cop in the city. And Kate, one thing I did learn during my tenure with the company is how to stay alert and watch for signs of trouble. It saved my ass a couple of times. I'll be all right as long as I know that my family is. Did the captain give you more paperwork to do?"

"No, I've been going over all the notes on our case against Vulcan Simmons to make sure there's no way he can wriggle out from under, again."

"So what do you think?"

"I think we have him, Castle. He's going to spend the rest of his life in prison and…" The phone on her desk rings.

Castle can see her eyes widen and her mouth drop open as she listens to whoever is on the other end of the call. "Another case?" he asks as she hangs up the receiver.

Kate digs her teeth into her bottom lip, almost drawing blood. "There's a dead body, Castle, but it's not a new case. It's Vulcan Simmons. He was shanked in the shower."

"Castle squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. "Ooh! I don't even want to think about that image. But it fits, Kate. Bracken likes to lop off loose threads. He couldn't know if Simmons would ever decide to flip on him, so he arranged to get rid of him. Do the guards know who killed him?"

"Apparently no one saw anything, but there were only four other prisoners in the immediate vicinity."

"And you want to interrogate all of them."

"As fast as we can make it to Rikers."

* * *

Tito Lipper looks more scared than defiant as he's led in to be questioned by Kate. "I already said I didn't see nuthin.'"

"Tito, you're only in for a year, or they would have transferred you to Sing Sing. Don't jeopardize your chances of getting out of here by having it go on your record that you were uncooperative or implicated in a murder. You must have seen something, heard something, even if you didn't witness Simmons buying it. So who entered the shower ahead and behind Simmons?"

"I didn't see. Here you keep your head down. Don't want anyone thinking you're looking at them, maybe wanting some."

"I get that," Kate acknowledges. "You don't want to be anyone's girlfriend. But while you had your head down, what color were the feet you saw?"

"White."

"Anything else? A tattoo or a scar maybe?"

"No tattoos, but there was that stink."

"What kind of stink?' Kate presses.

"I don't know, you smell it on guys around here all the time, like mold or something."

"Or yeast, like bread?" Castle asks.

Tito shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. But that's it. That's all I remember."

Kate nods to the guard. "All right Tito, but you better be telling me the truth."

"Honest, detective. That's all I know."

Kate turns to Castle as Tito is led off. "You've got an idea Castle. You have that look."

"Yeah what Tito said brought back unpleasant memories of boarding school bathrooms and the hazards of using them. That smell, Kate; it's athletes' foot. The fungus spreads very easily in common showers if they're not properly disinfected. Simmons' killer could have it. Caucasian with itchy toes should narrow it down a bit."

Kate bobs her head slowly. "If you're right, it will."

Kate watches Marco Rutoff on camera for a few minutes before entering the room to question him. He looks uncomfortable and not just nervous. He's trying to rub his feet against the legs of his chair - an almost impossible task in shackles. She smiles up at Castle. Looks like you may be right."

"Wouldn't want to play footsie with him," Castle agrees, curling his toes inside his shoes as he starts to itch in sympathy.

Kate strides into the room with the prisoner. Not bothering to take a chair, she glares down at Rutoff. "I know you killed Vulcan Simmons, Rutoff. That means no more pampering at Rikers. You'll be shipped off to spend the rest of your life in a facility that's a lot less accommodating. You have exactly one chance to keep yourself from spending that time somewhere other than the deepest possible hole. Tell me who told you to do it."

Rutoff shakes his head. "I tell you anything and the hole I'll be in will be six feet deep and I won't be breathing. You cops, especially lady cops, just don't understand how things work, here or anywhere. If you actually knew anything, you wouldn't just be talking to me. I'm sure as hell not going to spill anything to you, or any cop, or your playmate here, whoever he is. So you might as well send me back to my cell."

Kate smacks the leather folder she's carrying down on the table. "Fine, Rutoff. You had your chance, and you blew it."

* * *

"Rutoff did it," Castle declares as he and Kate make the trek back to where she's parked her unit.

"I agree, Castle, but we haven't got enough to charge him - not yet. And he's just a link in a very nasty chain. What we need to find out is how he got his orders. That means we need visitor logs, recordings of visits, and any security video the prison has on him. In any case, this is an opening for our personal investigation. Whoever told Rutoff to kill Simmons is the next step toward Bracken. And if we get lucky, it might be a giant step.

Halfway back to the precinct, Castle notices Kate's gloved hands tighten on the wheel as her eyes constantly flick to her rear view mirror. "What's wrong?"

"We're being followed, Castle. I thought I saw a car pick us up after we left the bridge from Rikers, but it disappeared. It must have been part of a tag team because we've picked up another tail."

"Kate, we're just going to the 12th anyway, no one is going to learn much from that."

"If we make it, Castle. With more than one car, they could be setting us up for a swoop and squat, or worse and - oh God!"

In the middle of an intersection, the car in front of Kate stops short, and another vehicle boxes her in from behind. She can hear Castle shouting, "Kate, get out!"

Cars are speeding toward both sides of her unit, and she and Castle barely manage to clear the impact zones. She runs toward the sidewalk, drawing her weapon. "Castle come on! Fearful of putting civilians in a crossfire, she avoids ducking into the nearest store and sprints into an alley instead. Castle's long legs bring him close behind her. She takes cover behind a line of steel dumpsters and sends out an officer needs assistance call, not anticipating that aid will arrive in time. She hands Castle her backup piece. "I know you know how to use this." Heavy feet slowly approach. As one man raises his gun at her, she squeezes off a shot. Castle fires twice, and she shoots once more. Four men's blood is staining the pavement. Kate recognizes one of them as a guard from Rikers.


	13. Chapter 13

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 13

Keeping her weapon trained on the men on the ground Kate swiftly glances toward Castle. "Are you all right Rick?"

Castle rubs the back of his neck. "You think we can still sue these guys for whiplash?" He can see the muscles in Kate's jaw pop as she grits her teeth. "Really, Kate, I'm fine. I don't think the same can be said for your unit. They mashed it from both sides. If we'd been in there, Lanie, or worse, Perlmutter, might be scraping us up with a spatula."

Kate rapidly regards the street where traffic is already seriously snarled. "Backup better get here soon, and not just for these assholes. There are going to be a lot of seriously pissed off drivers in this area."

"Pissed off is a way of life for anyone who gets behind the wheel in this city. It beats dead."

"Some of the people out there might give you an argument, as long as the body wasn't their own, Castle." Kate uses her foot to indicate one of the men on the ground. "Looks like there was at least one mole at Rikers."

"Yeah, I recognized this one of our inept assassins too, but not the others. They must have been on standby. That means Bracken was ready for us. He knew you'd try to track down Simmons' killer. If these idiots survive, maybe they can fill us in on more of his game. I hope whoever is in charge of getting visitor logs and video isn't a mole too."

"That makes two of us, Castle." The rising wail of sirens invades the alley. "It's about fucking time!"

"I wish," Castle mutters to himself."

* * *

Jasper Goodlatte is doing his best to appear as incapacitated as possible. His eyes are closed, and every so often he lets out a moan. Kate isn't buying it. The doctor assured her that former corrections officer Goodlatte was quite well enough to be questioned, and would be ready for discharge as soon as the bureaucrats figure out where to put him.

Kate smacks her palm against the roll-up table used to serve what the hospital claims is food, producing a loud crack. Goodlatte's eyes fly open. "I knew you were with us, Jasper. You know you're in a hell of a lot of trouble, don't you? This city doesn't take kindly to jerks who try to murder cops."

"Not to mention causing a massive traffic jam," Castle adds.

"But the city is nothing compared to your worse problem," Kate continues. "Whoever sent you after Mr. Castle and me, knows by now that you failed. And there's a trail of dead bodies showing that screwing up isn't well tolerated by the man pulling the strings. In fact, failures are terminated - with extreme prejudice.

"Right now, the minute you leave this place, you're going back to prison. It might be the infirmary, but it will still be prison. And just how long do you think a disappointment like you is going to last in there?"

Kate can see Jasper shrinking from the picture she's painting. "But we're smarter than your guys, Jasper. You've already seen how much smarter. We can protect you, but you need to play ball with us. If you want to keep on breathing, we're the only hope you have."

Jasper sinks against his pillows. "What do you want?"

Kate moves closer, letting the determined set of her face fill Jasper's vision. "I want to know everything you know about the operation you work for, and I don't mean the prison system. But you can start with the person who sent you after me."

"He's a tactical officer. Lockwood, his name is Lockwood."

* * *

Esposito meets Kate as she and Castle step off the elevator at the precinct. "Lockwood's gone. He's not at Rikers. His apartment is cleaned out. He left his car behind, so we can't track him that way. Got his personnel record. That is one dangerous dude. He was special ops. I got his military record too. Most of it is redacted, but if you read between the lines of what's there, it looks like the army got rid of him because he was a wet boy who liked the job too much. The man's a stone killer, Beckett. Probably the only reason he didn't try to take you out himself is that whoever is holding his leash wanted to make it look like an accident."

"And isn't going to care much about that anymore," Castle speculates grimly.

"You got a picture of this guy, Javi?" Kate queries.

Esposito pulls a photo out of the folder he's holding and hands it to Kate. From over her shoulder, Castle stares at the image. "He might have already altered his appearance; changed his hair color, maybe added facial hair. But there's something helter-skelter about those eyes. It's probably what scared the hell out of the army. I'd recognize those in any face."

Kate silently nods. "How about the other records from Rikers, Espo? Did we get them?"

Ryan strides up to join them. "I can tell you about those. We have some of the visitor logs, but a few somehow mysteriously disappeared. Most of the surveillance video was short-term, and they recorded over it, but we have about two weeks' worth. I've been scrubbing it. Nothing so far, but the good news is that Tech doesn't believe it's been altered. If there is anything there, we'll find it."

Kate shoves her hair out of her face. "I'd love to know what's in those missing visitor logs, but Jasper Goodlatte may be able to fill in some of the missing pieces. Is the safe house set up for him?"

Esposito grunts. "Too damn good for that scumbag. We snagged an old stripper joint in Brooklyn that got seized because what was on stage and at the bar wasn't the only joy the owner was selling. Sharp place. The owner set himself up an apartment there with all the appliances and stuff, and it's in pretty good shape. There's a dressing room in the basement where the dancers used to change. Solid walls. Worse comes to worst; it's a defensible retreat. Ryan and I can take shifts, and we're going to use JT. But we'll need more people we're sure we can trust. I was thinking McNulty and Karpowski. They've both had our backs before."

"Good," Kate agrees. "And I'll take shifts too. I want to squeeze everything I can out of Goodlatte. Castle, you want in on that?'

Esposito and Ryan wander off as Castle grins. "Can I use the pliers? Or maybe we can get one of those thumbscrews. Pity they don't make racks anymore."

"Castle, terrified as Goodlatte probably is of Lockwood, I don't think we'll need any medieval devices. More likely, sorting out what we can actually use from what he gives us will be the problem."

"Well if we can't use whatever he vomits forth to track down Lockwood and his boss, I can always weave it into a prison scene or two in a book. I have no idea why, but my fans seem to love those."

Kate jabs him with her elbow. "They'd probably rather read about a prison than be in one."

Castle turns, his eyes meeting hers. "Or maybe they just prefer it to incarceration in the prisons they build around themselves."


	14. Chapter 14

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 14

Kate looks up from her laptop at their improvised workstation on the table in the loft. "Castle, did you find something in that yearbook?"

Castle strokes the stubble forming on his chin. "Could be, or it might be a coincidence. This guy was a couple of years behind Bracken at Michigan State, but he had the same major, and he was in the same frat. They had to have known each other. The name rings a bell, but I'm not sure from where - or maybe it's just the implication. Are you familiar with a Justin Flake?"

"I don't know him, but I know of him. He was a captain in Narcotics before he hand-picked his successor and moved on to a post at 1PP. He's still there, working as a coordinator between divisions." Kate presses her fingers to her mouth. "Castle, if Flake's tied up with Bracken that means that bastard is receiving information on everything the department does. And when Flake was in his old position, he could have provided cover to any drug dealer in the city, including Vulcan Simmons. His replacement might still be doing it. You may have just found a linchpin of Bracken's operation!"

"But how do you grill someone from 1PP? You can't just call him in on the basis of a blurb in an old yearbook, can you?"

Kate rakes her fingers through her hair before her eyes brighten. "No, I can't, Castle, but you're pals with the commissioner. Isn't he a regular at your Gotham Gang poker nights? He was there one of the times you invited me to play."

"Semi-regular. Your boss can be a sore loser. Weldon, Montgomery, Markway, and I have an informal understanding to let him win a pot every so often to keep him from pouting. It also prevents him from consoling himself with too much of my best scotch."

"Still, do you think you could convince him to give us any background the department has on Flake?"

Castle shakes his head. "I couldn't. You've heard Montgomery complain about him enough. The man's a hardass. But Weldon could. I think the only reason the commissioner comes to the games at all is to stay on Bob's good side. Bob appointed him; he can fire him."

"Can you call Weldon?"

Castle checks his watch. "It's almost midnight, Kate; not a great time to ask for a favor. And shouldn't we both be getting some rest? If I recall, we have the daytime shift at Goodlatte's safe house tomorrow, and we'll need to get to Brooklyn pretty early. But I can call Weldon from there. He usually has a mocha latte and a cruller at about nine-thirty in the morning and is feeling pretty magnanimous."

Kate rubs her eyes and rotates her shoulders. "I am beat. I left my unit at the precinct. The subway will only be running every half-hour this time of night. I wonder if I can snag a cab?"

"Why don't you just stay?" Castle suggests. "The trains start running more frequently again around 6:30. You can grab a quick shower and a change of clothes at your apartment, pick up your unit at the precinct, and we should make it to Brooklyn in time to relieve Espo."

"Castle, I don't think…"

"Kate, the couch pulls out to a bed - one that's actually comfortable. Alexis' friends use it all the time when they stay over. Or you can take mine, and I'll bunk down there. I can even make the coffee you like in the morning - with stevia and real vanilla extract."

"Castle, I can't take your bed. The couch will be fine, but won't it bother Alexis or Martha?"

"Why would it? Alexis knows you and I are working together here at night. No reason you can't sack out for a while. And as for Mother, assuming she makes it home herself tonight, she is in no position to throw stones. It'll be fine Kate."

"All right, sure, Castle. I can use the extra sleep."

Kate might be getting extra sleep, but Castle isn't. Knowing that she's just a few steps away isn't conducive to slumber. He's wondering if the old standby of hot milk will help, maybe with a few drops of brandy in it. He doesn't want to turn on the lights and wake her, but he can take the flashlight he always has handy for blackouts. Just zapping a glass in the microwave for a minute shouldn't make much noise. He can be back in his room in two minutes, tops.

Kate is barely drowsing and immediately snaps alert at the sound of footsteps and the intense beam of a Mag-Lite. Her gun is in her holster on a chair only a few feet away, but she judges she doesn't have the time to go for it. The shadowy figure is too close. She hurls herself at it, knocking it to the ground and jarring the light out of its hand.

Castle's forehead, followed by his chin, smack against the hardwood floor, momentarily stunning him. There's a knee in his back and the faint smell of - cherries? "Kate?"

"Omigod! Castle! What the hell were you doing sneaking around? I could have shot you!" She steps back and holds out her hand to help him up. "Are you all right?"

His fingers gingerly explore the tender spots created by the impact of her flying tackle. "I think so — just a little woozy. You could use the flashlight to check my pupils for concussion. I always did that when Alexis took a tumble."

Castle seems pretty with it to Kate, but she grabs the light anyway, to make them both feel better. "They look fine; equal and reactive as they say on Grey's Anatomy."

"And every other medical drama ever made," Castle adds. "I was just going to the kitchen. I didn't want to disturb you, Kate. That's why I was using the flashlight. Cop instincts?"

"Yeah. How did you know it was me Castle?"

"The smell of your shampoo. It's very distinctive. You know, cherries. I noticed it when we were hunting the stake-wielding stepmother. I know the scent of the soap you use too. What is it; cucumber melon?"

"It is, Castle. I had no idea that you paid that much attention."

"Kate of course I do. As a writer, I study every detail. Actually, what just happened reminds me of when Nikki thought Rook was an evil lurker in _Heat Wave_. At least you didn't kick me in the jaw. That would have given me a concussion for sure."

Kate brushes his face with her fingertips, tracing the lines of his mouth. "But later she found a way to soothe his pain - and hers. Page 105."

"Kate that was just my imagination."

"You're not the only one with an imagination, Rick. Lying here, I kept thinking that with Bracken out there, every minute could be the last one that I'll ever have. And you were in just on the other side of a wall. You've done nothing but try to help me, even when you had to fight to do it. And I've done nothing but push you away, even when I had to fight to do it. Except for my parents, I've never known anyone who would do that for me before. And I know I don't want to push you away anymore. I – we – might never get the chance to…"

"Page 105?"

"And a lot more."

Castle plunges his fingers into her hair, bringing her face an inch from his own. "You said I had no idea. Maybe now is the time to show me."

Kate fights to draw air into her lungs. "Maybe it is."


	15. Chapter 15

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 15

Kate lightly touches her lips to Castle's bruised forehead and chin, before pressing them against his mouth. His lips are soft and warm and his breath fresh in spite of the hour. He must have taken the time to brush his teeth before falling into bed. Her tongue searches for his, tips twining as they meet. She can feel the hardness beneath his shorts as he jerks her against him. His heat flows and mingles with her own, rising through her body and shooting through her veins. "Rick!"

His teeth find the tender skin of her neck, sending another shock through already sensitized nerves. She pulls open the top she slept in, exposing the bare flesh beneath. His mouth caresses the tips of her breasts, already straining for it. He takes in one and then the other while his hand cups the more desperate blaze below, hot against his palm. He needs a more fitting place, his private domain, for their joining.

Kate feels Castle's arms around her, stronger than she thought possible, lifting her against the firmness of his chest. Her arms wrap around his neck almost of their own accord. His hair is thick and soft beneath her fingers, and she can smell remnants of soap on his skin. Irish Spring. She's always loved the freshness of it, rather than the colognes or body sprays that some men seem to believe make then sexy. All she wants is clean mingling with raw maleness. In the faint glow of the city lights, she can see the outline of Rick's bed. He lays her down on sheets and blankets still warm from his body.

He's above her, holding himself up on his arms, with their fiery mouths the only point of contact. It's not enough, not nearly enough. Her hands dig into the tight muscle of his buttocks, pulling him down on top of her. His weight pushes her deeper into the bed, but the feel of his skin against hers arouses every cell in her body. She wraps her legs around his back, forcing him against her most desperate need. She grinds against him, in a silent plea, before encircling him with her hand to guide him where everything within her is urgently begging him to go.

"Kate, are you sure you want this?"

She can only answer with the press of her calves against him, propelling him deeper. Her hips thrust upward, seeking more contact, more intensity. Their mouths collide greedily, demanding everything.

The room, the city, fade into a nameless haze, leaving only the two of them in endless discovery. Every response is ignited, energy building between them until it can no longer be contained. Kate is beyond control as convulsions wrack her body and they are blown apart by the force of their climax.

Sleep overcomes them until Castle awakes to clatter in the kitchen. He grabs for his watch on the bedside table — five a.m. Begrudgingly leaving Kate, he wraps himself in a robe and goes to locate the source of the noise.

Alexis is filling an oversized bowl with cereal to be topped with a banana she's apparently just sliced. "This is an early start, even for you, Pumpkin."

"Our math team needs to get in an extra practice session before our match this afternoon. Before class is the only time we'll have. Paige's mom is picking me up in half an hour. That gives me time for breakfast and to get together what I'll need for today. The match starts at three-thirty, so I probably won't be home until five-thirty. Maybe later. Don't worry about supper. I'll grab a pizza with Paige, and Samantha and Owen."

Castle struggles to reach full comprehension. "Wait, Owen? Who's Owen?" He can see his daughter's eyes light up.

"He's the captain of the math team. He's brilliant Dad. He's the same age we are, but he skipped a grade, so he's a junior. He's already into linear equations and matrices. He won't need those for the competition, but I think he could do derivatives in his sleep. He's really helped me to visualize how limits work."

Barely remembering his own foray into calculus, Castle can just grasp what Alexis is talking about, but at least she's keeping it academic. "Owen sounds like a very accomplished young man."

"I guess you and Detective Beckett were working on some accomplishments of your own last night." Alexis points to the still open sleeper couch. "It looks like she had to grab a nap. Is she in the bathroom or something? She left her purse and her gun out here."

"Or something," Castle repeats noncommittally. He very rarely lies to his daughter, but that Kate is still in his bed is a detail he's not prepared to share with Alexis either. He doesn't know if Kate would even want him to, and Alexis' interpretation of the scene is providing some cover.

Alexis generously douses the contents of her bowl in milk. "If I don't see her before I go, tell her I said hello."

"I'll do that," Castle promises. "And if you don't mind some company in the kitchen, I'm going to start a new pot of coffee. "It's going to be a long day, and it was a short night."

Alexis moves her bowl to the breakfast counter and mounts a high stool to dig in. "Sure, Dad, I understand."

Castle can't help wondering just how much Alexis understands, and he's not sure he wants to know.

Castle spoons with a still sleeping Kate when he returns to his bed. He won't have long to hold her before they need to prepare for the tasks ahead, but he'll take what he can get.

At first, Kate isn't sure where she is, except that she knows that Castle's arms are around her. The memory of the night before descends with a shock, forcing the air from her lungs. She mentally yanks at the tangles of her thoughts. She slept with Castle! Hell! That was a lot more than sleeping - it was - she has no name for what happened. Sex doesn't even begin to cover it. Lovemaking? Even the idea of the L-word is terrifying, but it's what happened. It has to be. Nothing she's experienced before with any partner ever came close to what she felt last night.

What time is it? She left her father's watch on the chair near the couch along with her weapon, her purse, and most of her clothes. It's still dark, and the sounds of traffic are not yet penetrating the walls and windows of Castle's bedroom. Castle's arms tighten around her as she tries to move. "Rick, I need to get up while there's still time for me to get out of here before Alexis is awake."

"She already knows you're here, but before rushing off for battle preparations at school, she chose to believe you slept on the couch."

"Castle?"

"It's all right, Kate. As you well know, my daughter is wise beyond her years, and if she can deal with her grandmother's exploits, she can deal with your presence, however she cares to interpret it. But how do you feel about what happened?"

"Castle, honestly, I don't know. It changes a lot of things - maybe everything. But right now, with Bracken hanging over us, I don't have time to sort it all out. I have a job. No, we have a job, and we need to finish it before I can deal with anything else."

Castle traces the lines of her face. "I get it, Kate, and finish that job we will."


	16. Chapter 16

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 16

Kate grits her teeth as she turns the ignition in her unit. "That was a wasted eight hours. We're not going to get anything else out of Goodlatte. If anyone at the prison knew anything, it was Lockwood, and he's still in the wind."

Castle reaches across the console to put his hand on her arm. "Not entirely wasted. I managed to get through to Weldon. He's going to strongly encourage the commissioner to have Justin Flake come for a little tête à tête. With any luck, you can roast our underground dweller over the coals tomorrow. And Kate, how do you want to handle tonight? I mean, do you want to…?"

"Rick, I'm still trying to get everything straight in my head. We have our lead in Justin Flake. I think it might be better if I drop you at the loft and go to my place tonight. Alexis can maintain her illusions for a while."

"Kate, I don't honestly think Alexis has any illusions to maintain. More likely she was trying to avoid embarrassing me - or you. But if you need the space and the time, you should take it. Maybe I'll even get some writing in."

"Castle, if what happened last night ends up on the pages of your next Nikki Heat, we're going to have a problem."

Castle sucks in his lips, shaking his head. "Kate, maybe Jameson Rook's alter ego the romance writer could put what happened last night into words, but I can't or maybe I just won't. That was too intense, too personal, to share. It belongs to the two of us - only to the two of us. That means it won't make even a disguised appearance in any of my books, but it shouldn't go to Lanie, and somehow be spilled to Esposito and on to Ryan, either. It was too perfect to ruin that way. Agreed?"

"Agreed, Rick."

"Good. Fine. But you know what? I'm starved." He gazes at the clock on the dash. "Alexis is going out for pizza with her teammates. Why don't we take a pause in the day's occupations and stop somewhere for dinner? There's a new place that just opened up not far from the loft - The Pots and Kettles."

"Sounds like an argument."

"Are you game to find out?"

"Sure Castle. It will beat the three-day-old Chinese I have in my refrigerator."

"Yeah, I figured."

* * *

The menu of the Pots and Kettles seems perfect for New Yorkers fortifying themselves against an icy winter. The kettles hold a variety of hearty soups, and the pots are homes to savory stews. Aside from an assortment of hot coffees and teas, the restaurant offers spiced cider along with the obligatory colas, regular and diet. Freshly baked breads and desserts fill out the listings that are posted on a large chalkboard.

The scent of rosemary beckons both Kate and Castle toward lamb stew with brown rice as an accompaniment. Kate sips a spicy chai while Castle, ever the Trekkie, opts for Captain Picard's favorite, Earl Grey, hot.

"Castle you're staring at me," Kate notes over a shared order of dense flourless chocolate cake.

"It's just the first time I've seen you relax since - you know. Most of the day your forehead has been all wrinkly and now it isn't. If I'm not mistaken, I think I might have detected a hint of a smile when you tasted your first bite of cake."

"Mmm. It is incredible, Castle. But I feel like I can't let go. Lockwood or someone is out there waiting for the next chance to take us out. And we don't seem to be getting much closer to Bracken."

"We will, Kate. We build a case step by step, piece by piece. Isn't that what you're always telling me? And our next piece will be when you work your wizardry on Justin Flake. We're going to get this done. I know it. Writer's intuition."

"OK, Castle, I guess I'll just have to go with that for now."

* * *

Justin Flake is feeling very nervous. He couldn't think up an excuse to say no to the commissioner, but he knows Kate Beckett by reputation. What she goes after, she gets, and he has no idea what she wants from him. He's been so careful. He doesn't live above his salary level, although he could. His accounts are in nations that deliver the highest level of discretion. Until he's ready to leave the department, nothing he's done could tip anyone off that he's anything but another bureaucrat. There's no reason a detective, let alone one of her standing should ask to talk to him.

He toys with the idea of leaving the city, but one thing he's had drummed into him as a cop is that the surest declaration of guilt is to run. It's a mistake, that's all. When he meets with Detective Beckett, he can straighten it out. He's sure of that. Almost sure.

* * *

Hal Lockwood studies the plans for Castle's loft. Despite its designation as a security building, it is anything but secure. Any competent sniper could take out a target through the tall windows. Adding to that, there's an entrance from the building next door. Castle should be an easy mark, and if Beckett is with him, that would be hitting the jackpot. She's not with him now. Castle entered the building by himself. That would most likely put Beckett at her own apartment which is somewhat more problematical. The buildings in that area are low, and there's no place to build a nest to wait for a clean shot. That's fine. She and Castle have been working together almost every night, and Hal suspects they did more than work last night. She'll be back. And when she is, Bracken will be free of this particular annoyance once and for all and Lockwood will have a fat payday.

He does have another problem to consider. That idiot Goodlatte has no doubt told the cops everything he knows, or they wouldn't be taking such good care of him. Hal followed a couple of detectives from the 12th to Goodlatte's safehouse. He has to admit, using a stripper joint is creative. The place is also difficult to breach. There are no windows. Why give out free samples? There is a back door, but it's solid and locked from the inside by what looks like a metal bar. He could blow it, but that would give even the dumber cops guarding Goodlatte a chance to get him under cover. He can try getting in by going through the roof. The HVAC is on top of the building, so there has to be a hatch to reach it for maintenance. There really isn't much reason to kill Goodlatte, He's probably done as much harm as he can do, but the boss hates loose ends and Goodlatte is dangling like a spider too stupid to stay in its web.

It will be best to take out Beckett and Castle first. If Hal terminates Goodlatte, they'll be even more on their guard. That means that he has some time to wait. He has enough cash to amuse himself any way he wishes, and there's a house up in Harlem that's maintained a reputation for offering anything and everything, for well over a hundred years. Until Beckett and Castle decide to get it on again, he'll find some pleasures of his own.


	17. Chapter 17

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 17

Kate stalks restlessly around her apartment. She could be doing some research, even without the resources at Castle's loft, but she can't sit still long enough to get anything done. Her interview with Justin Flake is on the horizon, but that's not what's destroying her concentration. She'd rather be at the loft, and not just for investigative purposes. When she's not with Castle, even when they're not trying to puzzle out a case, it's like she has a piece missing.

She's had partners who were important to her before - especially Mike Royce. And she'd believed, at least for a while that she'd fallen in love with him. But when he was gone, she didn't feel a gnawing emptiness. Sure, there were a couple of times she wanted to phone him, but not enough to make the calls. She might have missed Will a little when he transferred to Boston, but she'd never seriously considered following him.

She's only been away from Castle for a couple of hours, and yet she's tempted to jump on a subway train or hell, just run to Broome Street. It's stupid. She is a strong, self-sufficient woman. She has been for a very long time. She's liked it that way. She's not at all sure she likes it now. She'll get through the night. She can take a hot bath and have a glass of red wine. She might even take _Naked Heat_ into the tub with her. No, that could make things worse. She'll take a book by Patterson or Connelly. Other than skillfully creating their mysteries, neither of them holds any attraction for her.

* * *

Castle is determined to get some writing in, not so much to appease Gina as to fill the hole left by Kate's absence. When the characters won't come, he resorts to his favorite fallback, people watching. Often, he'll do it at a café or an airport, if he happens to be traveling, but the loft offers opportunities as well. The apartments in the building across the way are filled with interesting characters. Apparently, most of the time they don't feel that they're doing anything that merits drawing their blinds or closing their curtains. He can look in on their activities through his binoculars or the zoom on his camera.

Light is emanating from several windows. The writing team is as usual, in front of their computer screen, squabbling about something. Ooh, they're handcuffed to each other. He's willing to bet there's a story there, but not the kind he's trying to write at the moment. Another neighbor is watching sports on television with a platter of wings on his lap and a beer on the table next to him. Nothing new about that. About the only thing that changes is the snack and the sports season. The space above the level of Castle's loft had been unoccupied for a couple of months, but it has a new tenant. He isn't close enough to the window to make out much about him except height and most likely gender - although these days Castle is not always sure about that. Between what is disguised by clothing and Park Avenue's best plastic surgeons anything is possible. Still, that sort of muscle mass would rarely be seen on a woman - except one preparing for a weightlifting or mixed martial arts competition. Castle watches for a few minutes to see if he can discern anything else, before retreating to his office. The newcomer offers nothing more to see. The sports addict might make a useful victim, especially if his fed up mate decides to add a deadly seasoning to the sauce on the wings. Castle can play with that for a while and see if anything exciting pops.

* * *

Kate is questioning Justin Flake in the lounge. She would be more at home using the box, but at least theoretically, Flake merits a certain amount of professional consideration. That will in no way stop her from recording the proceedings. Both N.Y. and federal law permit one party consent, and she's a party. Castle is too, and he certainly has no objection. There's a microphone taped under the table and an almost invisible fiber optic camera aimed at them from the wall. If Flake lets something slip, he will be unable to deny it.

Kate is determined to make it look as if she's just interested in dismantling anything that's left of Vulcan Simmons' organization. She practically gushes that given Flake's former position in Narcotics and his present job, he's uniquely qualified to advise her. His relief is palpable when Kate convinces him that's all she wants. To Castle, her act is impressive if a bit nauseating, especially when she asks Flake where he went to school to develop his crime-solving acumen.

Kate pours on the flattery when he mentions Michigan State University, pointing out that not only did one of her professors at Stanford attend the vaunted institution but such accomplished figures as Senator Collinwood and rising star William Bracken did as well. Castle adds his admiration for the politicians to further prime the pump. When Flake admits that he and Bracken were fraternity brothers, Kate inwardly rejoices that she has him on the hook.

Confessing her curiosity about whether Bracken's interest in crime continued after he served as D.A., she asks if Flake stayed in touch with the senator over the years. Flake's shoulders square and his chest expands as he confides that they have been in very close contact, with Bracken expressing curiosity both in Flake's work in Narcotics and his duties at 1PP. he smugly adds that Bracken was particularly interested in whatever Flake could tell him about Simmons arrest and subsequent demise.

Kate swiftly relates what he brags to her excuse for the meeting, encouraging Flake to go on with everything he knows about Simmons' operation. It isn't that much. In fact, Kate's been able to gather more information herself, through some of Ryan's contacts, but she continues in her dewy-eyed admiration until Flake offers her his regrets that he has to leave to attend a meeting with the Deputy Chief. Flake exchanges warm handshakes with both Kate and Castle before he departs.

Kate breaks into giggles the moment the elevator doors close behind Flake. "Omigod, Castle. The man isn't a mole; he's just a hopeless ass-kisser."

Castle's grin extends to the laugh lines radiating from the corners of his eyes. "Or what those in the spy game would refer to as a useful idiot. Kate, that was beautiful! I'd thought you'd be grilling him over red-hot coals, but you made him the frog who gets boiled in hot water before he has the sense to jump out. Only what do you do with what you have now?"

"Castle, all calls within the N.Y.P.D. get logged, one way or another. It used to be on paper; now the records are digitized. We can check what was going down around the time Flake had his brown-nosing conversations with his old pal Bracken. I'm willing to bet that we can connect them with major movements of drugs or money. Our handle on the ties between Bracken and criminal operations in New York is getting bigger. When we get more evidence, we should be able to yank on it and pull him in."

Castle urges Kate into the now empty elevator and jabs the button to close the doors before taking her in his arms. I would love to have a hand on it when that happens."

Kate snuggles into his chest. "You will, Castle, I promise."

"Kate, you have a free hour now, don't you?"

"Mmm."

"Alexis is at school. Mother is at the theater. Let's go to my loft."

When the doors open again, Kate hurries to get her coat.


	18. Chapter 18

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 18

They're back, but other than seeing them briefly pass by the windows he plans to shoot through, Lockwood's not sure where they are. He has a good guess that it's the bedroom, but the curtains are closed, and he can't get a good angle on them there, anyway. He'll have to wait and see if they come in range. If not there's always the night. With his infra-red scope, the darkness won't be a problem. If anything it will provide cover.

* * *

Kate and Rick just fall on the bed, not bothering to pull back the spread. If successful interrogations get Kate this aroused, he's hoping there are a lot more of them. Maybe he can discover a private place in the precinct. He's always suspected that Espo and Lanie sneak off somewhere. Ooh, he hopes it's not the morgue. He's fine with kinky, but slabs would not be his preference.

Kate already has her top off, and she's pulling at his shirt. He pushes it over his head while she goes for his belt. "Kate, I'm a fan of your enthusiasm - a big fan in all meanings of the word, but can we slow this down enough to savor it a little? It's been a long time since I had a nooner."

Kate pulls the leather loose from its loops and begins cinching it around his wrists. This may slow you down a little Castle."

"Not precisely what I envisioned, but I can see how it fits the mood. Now what, Kate?'

Her lips leave a wet spot on the fabric of his pants as she presses her mouth to the material below his waistband before stripping his slacks from his legs. His condition is apparent beneath his boxers, and she pulls the elastic down to take a taste.

"Kate!"

"Relax and go with it, Rick, I'm just getting started." She rubs herself against the firm muscle of his thigh as she pursues her feast. He can feel the jungle heat on his skin, even through the fabric that still sheaths her lower body. She tastes the first liquid pearl before pulling back.

"Kate?"

She swiftly rids herself of her remaining barriers. "Your turn, Rick. You won't need your hands for this, and we both know how well you use your mouth."

Castle doesn't need a second invitation. She writhes beneath him as his tongue teases the center of her sensation to even higher levels of excitement. She takes him even as he takes her, lighting the fuse to the inevitable explosive release. It rocks and drains them both, rendering further movement or even speech impossible.

The taste of him still on her lips, Kate is the first to recover, hauling herself off his body. "Babe, I can't believe I need to go back to work after this, but I do."

Castle groans and consults his watch, the one thing he is still wearing. "We have time for a quick bite in the kitchen - food I mean. After burning that many calories, we can't get through the afternoon on empty stomachs and it would look a little suspicious to attack the vending machines after coming back from lunch. I think I have some Hot Pockets."

"I know you have some hot pockets, Babe."

Castle winces. "Not microwaveable. I can get my pants on, get the other kind out of the freezer and nuke them if you want to freshen up a little. There's some, uh - it's in your hair, and I don't think you could get away with claiming it's snow."

Kate fingers the sticky strands. "Yeah. All right Castle, if you want to take care of artificially processed snack food, I'll deal with the more natural kind. We should be able to just make it back to the 12th in time."

* * *

Lockwood can just make out what looks like Castle and Beckett exiting the building. He can feel himself hardening as he imagines how they spent the last hour. He doesn't begrudge them their midday adventure. It may have been the last one for both of them.

* * *

"Any luck with your logs?" Kate asks as Castle scans through the pages of a spiral bound record book.

"Maybe Flake should have been a doctor. His handwriting is almost indecipherable, but I did find some calls with Bracken - not as many as he would have liked us to believe. I think their closeness was braggadocio on his part, but they were in touch enough for Bracken to keep a finger on what was going down. I have some dates here: April 2, 2008, May 6, 2009, August 4, 2009."

Kate scans through listings of busts of drug operations. "The day before, every time. These were successful, but Narcotics never collared the higher level members of the organizations, like Simmons. Flake must have been tipping them off just enough so that they could minimize their losses while allaying suspicion, probably at Bracken's instructions. I don't think Flake is that smart on his own."

Castle taps on his phone log and snorts. "I bet he was smart enough to pull in some nice fat payoffs and hide them somewhere."

"Could be," Kate agreed. "Cops' financials are open to scrutiny by Internal Affairs, but they don't have the staff or resources to trace every account. They search for things like large purchases and defaults on debts. If Flake stowed the money in a country that doesn't cooperate with the IRS or other US investigators, IA would never find it. They wouldn't even know to look. He'd know that, and if he didn't, Bracken would. The senator would make sure his faithful puppy received enough Scooby snacks to keep him happy. But without any documentary evidence that Flake is taking bribes, we don't have any way to nail him."

"How about a sting?" Castle proposes. "We've done one before - the banker - the attaché case full of newspaper."

"I remember, Castle, but trapping a police officer, even a jerk like Flake is a lot more complicated than taking in a murderer trying to make off with a million dollars from the lovesick fiancée of her victim. He'll be aware of police procedure and on his guard."

"Then we set it up someplace he'd never expect police to be."

"Like where, Castle?"

"The domicile of someone with a reputation for loving drugs and hating law enforcement."

"Why would someone like that help us with a sting?"

"Repentance, redemption. Have you ever heard of Shiny Dime?"

"Who hasn't? He was the king of gangsta rap. But last I heard, he was convicted of assault with a deadly weapon and is doing time."

"But what you didn't hear is one of the better-kept secrets in the publishing world. Shiny found Jesus in prison. He became an author, under the name of Street Smarter, of a string of graphic novels aimed at young men of color. The idea is to urge them into paths that don't lead to prison. The secret of Street Smarter's identity lends him some mystique, and all his royalties have been going to programs to keep boys out of gangs. He was released from prison last month, and he's living on his estate out in Queens. He's actually planning on selling the place, quietly, but to the public at large, it's still a den of iniquity."

"You know Shiny Dime, Castle?"

"His name is Dwayne Tilson, and we've had a few conversations. He's given me some details about life in the hood so I could put more realism into my stories. We share the same agent. From the talks we've had so far, I'm sure he'd want to help bring down a cop who's covered for drug dealers. I don't think it would be wise to mention Bracken. I can give Dwayne a call - unless you have a better idea."

"No Castle, I'm fresh out. You go ahead."


	19. Chapter 19

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 19

Susan Collinwood considers Kate's question carefully. "Whose name could you put on a message to convince your target that the order was coming from Bracken? That would have to be his chief of staff, Sturgis Gowdy. Most of Bracken's orders, except to his closest associates come through Sturgis. He was Bracken's campaign manager when he ran for Congress, and he's been Bracken's right hand ever since. But you might have a little problem spoofing him. Bracken has his own computer expert guarding his business."

"We'll figure it out, Senator, thanks."

"Thank you, Detective, and you too Mr. Castle. If you can take Bracken down, our country and the world will be better for it."

* * *

"What did you have in mind?" Castle asks as Kate ends the call they've made from some very cold swings in the deserted playground of a park near the precinct.

"I thought maybe Woo from Tech could manage it. He's incredible. Even Ryan is in awe of him."

"How much do you know about him?" Castle asks. "Tech is one of the divisions under Flake's purview, isn't it?'

"You're right, Castle, but right now, I can't think of anyone else."

"I can. She works for Dino Scarpelli. Rita has been keeping him and his soldiers out of trouble for years."

"And how exactly would you know that?"

"I'm acquainted with Dino. I went to school with one of his nephews, Joey Scarpelli, for a while. He ran the poker games on campus. We had a certain amount of mutual admiration for each other's skills with the cards. He also liked some of the stories I wrote, and he would give me a tidbit now and then - nothing incriminating to the family - about how things worked in the organization.

Joey told me about their resident computer genius; she's related to the Scarpellis somehow too. When Dino realized how talented she is, he sent her to MIT, on the proviso that she'd come back to run IT for the family. She came up to visit the school once with Dino, to check out the quality of the equipment. Joey and I and some of the other guys went out to lunch with them. Some of the best pasta I've ever had.

Not long after that, the school's computer lab got a top-of-the-line upgrade courtesy of an anonymous donor. I think Dino got his money's worth. I talk to Joey every so often, and he told me that four more of his relatives ended up using the facilities. Anyway, last I heard from Joey, Rita is still going strong. Dino couldn't run his business without her."

"Why would she help us?"

"Because Dino hates drugs. The building trades, waste management - of all kinds - gambling, liquor sales, clubs, he's into all of that. But somewhere along the line, he lost someone he loved to an overdose. I don't know any of the details, just that since then, the Scarpellis have no part in the drug trade and Dino can't stand to have anyone in his territory who does. He and Finn Rourke of the Westies have that in common. I believe Dino will be more than willing to do what he can to help rid the city of that particular scourge. We can go see him and find out."

"How?"

"He has his headquarters at a gentleman's club. It's a perfectly legitimate business if you don't look for the government tax stamps on the booze shipments. The ladies who perform there are very well…" Kate scowls at him. "I was going to say well-costumed. Dino's a theater fan. I won't have any trouble getting in, and I know you won't either."

* * *

Dino claps Castle on the back. "Little Ricky! Still making up stories, and this must be the cop muse Joey told me about."

Kate extends her hand. "Kate Beckett, Mr. Scarpelli. Castle thought you might be able to help us."

The smile vanishes from Dino's face. "You two might need some help. I hear there's a contract out on you, not from any of the families. I'm not sure from whom, but it went to a heavy hitter. From what I picked up, he's a real sure shot, one of the best in the country, maybe the world. They call him Chuck."

"Chuck?" Castle repeats, "like the guy on TV with the computer in his head."

"I wouldn't know about that," Scarpelli confesses. "I haven't seen a TV show I liked since _Eight is Enough_. No one understands family anymore. No, it's Chuck after Chuck Connors - from _The Rifleman_. If I were you, Detective Beckett, I'd wear my Kevlar. And Rick, you might want to invest in some."

Castle remembers that his "Writer" emblazoned vest is in the trunk of Kate's car. "I already have, but thanks for your concern, Dino. And Kate and I have a pretty good idea who Chuck is and who's behind him. That's why we need your help. We're trying to flip a dirty cop who's been supporting the activities of the merchants of powdered death. We're going to need some expert hacking to pull off our plan, and we're not sure we can trust our own people. I was wondering if we could borrow your redhead for a little while."

Dino purses his lips. "You want to take down the carriers of that plague, I'm with you, Rick. I'll give Rita a call."

Castle draws Kate tightly against his side as they walk back to her unit under the watchful eyes of Dino's security chief. "Kate, do you think Lockwood is Chuck?"

"I think it's a fair bet, Castle. We know he has the skills and that he works for Bracken. I wish we had a handle on where he is."

"Given what Dino told us, I have a sinking feeling that I may have spotted him, but I didn't realize it at the time. I noticed that I have a new neighbor in the building across the street that faces the wall of windows in the loft. His apartment is a floor higher than mine. It strikes me that location would give him the perfect trajectory for a bullet - or two bullets. He could be ready to draw a bead on us the minute we are back in my great room together."

"Babe, didn't I notice blinds pulled up at the top of those windows?"

"You did. I had them put in when Mother talked Alexis into joining her in some kind of yoga-mediation fusion." He grimaces. "For some reason, it didn't involve the wearing of much clothing.

"I haven't closed the blinds since mother went on to her next exercise fad. I don't even remember what it was, but she stayed dressed, and so did Alexis. We can use them to block the view now, but I'm beginning to wish they were steel shutters. From my research, even bulletproof glass can be breached using the right ammo, and if Chuck is as good as Dino says he is, he'd know what kind to employ."

"Our first step, Castle, is to get those windows covered and stay the hell away from them. We can get the boys to put surveillance on that apartment. Maybe this is the break we need to get Lockwood."

"What? Optimism from detective Kate Beckett? I must be rubbing off on you."

"I don't know Rick. But anytime you want to rub against me. Just say the word."

"Bad timing, Kate. But I will certainly keep that in mind.


	20. Chapter 20

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 20

"It's sent," Rita declares, looking up at Rick and Kate. "A message from Sturgis Gowdy, to Justin Flake, appearing to originate in DC. He should already have it on his phone, his computer, whatever. Now if you two will get out of here, I have business to do, and I don't need the smell of cop around me."

Castle half turns to leave. "We'll get out of your hair - and thanks, Rita."

"Thank Dino. He's the one who pays me."

"Castle, do you think this will work?" Kate wonders as Castle steps into the street to hail a cab.

"Flagging down a taxi? I do it all the time, although it would probably work better if you showed a little of those magnificent legs of yours."

"I think we can attract transportation without me getting frostbite on my knees." Kate sticks two fingers in her mouth and lets out a shrill whistle, causing a cabbie to break to a skidding stop. Castle ushers her inside the vehicle with a slight bow.

The driver pulls out one of his earbuds and activates his meter. "Where too?"

Kate nods at Castle's questioning glance. He holds up a hundred dollar bill. "Broome and Crosby."

Kate knocks on the window of Ryan and Esposito's unit, and Esposito lowers the glass. "You guys have any luck with Lockwood?"

"He's in there," Ryan reports.

"Hasn't left all day," Esposito adds. "Looked like a couple of times he had a scope trained on the front door, watching for you to come in."

"Where are Alexis and Ms. Rodgers?" Ryan queries. "We haven't seen them."

Castle waves off the blue-eyed cop's concern. "They're safe. Alexis is spending a few days with one of her girlfriends. They're working on an art history project, and she also said something about getting miniature works of art on their fingers and toenails. Mother has a new, uh, interest, on and off the stage. I don't expect she'll be around for a while. But I have people - people with guns - looking out for both of them."

The muscles pop in Esposito's jaw. "Look, Beckett, maybe you and Castle shouldn't go in there either. We don't know what Lockwood's got up there. Even if he can't see through the windows, he could lob something bigger and more dangerous than bullets. Maybe even blow the whole place up.

Kate shakes her head. "That's not his reputation as 'The Rifleman,' and I don't think he'd want to attract that much attention. If we're going to nail him, attempted murder of a cop would be the way to do it."

"How about the attempted murder of a best-selling author?" Castle protests.

Mischief glints in Kate's eyes. "That might do it too. When we're ready, we'll let Lockwood think he has us in his sights. In the meantime, Castle and I have another game to play."

Ryan's eyebrows rise. "And what game would that be?"

Kate mimes hammering a nail into a wall. "Pin the crime on the asshole."

* * *

Kate runs the tip of her finger over the gold plating of the fence. "This place is something, Castle. Any of the other gazillionaires you know live like this?"

"Patterson has 21,000 square feet in Palm Beach. I've been to that behemoth a couple of times for publishing events, but I think if he were going to gold plate anything it would be his first typewriter - or maybe his first dollar. I believe Dwayne's place is unique, but the ostentatiousness is why he doesn't want it anymore. It doesn't fit with his new view of life. However, it should impress Justin Flake, don't you think?"

"I think." Kate agrees. "The plan is for Dwayne to put on just enough of a show to draw Justin in. I sent him a script praising Bracken's operations and how successful they are. Once he gets Justin to agree, and maybe even spill some details he knows about Bracken, we have the sonofabitch. Dwayne told me he already has video equipment all over the place that he had installed for security purposes. All we'll need is the recordings, and we'll have Justin by the short hairs. Judges don't tend to be fond of dirty cops. He'll have to make a deal to give up everything he knows about Bracken and his operations or spend a lot of years in jail - maybe his life if he serves time for all the charges successively instead of concurrently. I just hope Dwayne's up for this."

"Kate, are you kidding? Who is more silver-tongued than a rapper? He'll get it done."

* * *

Justin Flake is impressed. In his dreams there have been lush grounds and large manses, but nothing like the domain of Shiny Dime. It would take every dime the mint turns out - and maybe a lot more - to purchase a place like this. The man himself doesn't disappoint. From the diamonds in his ears to the rings on his fingers, despite doing a little time, he is the image of success, just the sort of man Bracken would enlist. Justin's overjoyed to accept Shiny's offer of three fingers of Johnny Walker double black label. If anything, it makes him more intent on making a positive impression by talking about all the information he's picked up and transmitted and how in his modest way he's been building a nest egg."

Kate reaches for Castle's hand as they monitor the conversation. "Babe, this is even better than I hoped. Flake is giving us his direct connection to Simmons and Bracken."

"Along with his shameful if inflated history," Castle adds.

The smile fades from Kate's face. "We just have to stay alive to use it."

"We will, Kate. Before, you told the boys that we'd let Lockwood think he has us in his sights. What did you mean?"

Castle, just how fond are you of that Boba Fett figure you have in the bathroom.?"

"Very. Alexis gave it to me for Father's Day. I guess she got the idea after we spent an entire weekend watching a Star Wars marathon."

"All right, maybe we can get some blow-up dolls or something, to draw his fire."

"Blow up dolls, Kate? That's kink I've never been into - although I knew a couple of guys…"

"I'm not thinking about them as sex toys, Castle. I prefer the real thing. But we need to set a scene. If we use mannequins, Lockwood might spot us bringing them in."

"Ah! We can do it, Kate. We merely have to employ the skills I perfected in constructing Halloween tableaus. Balloons, pillowcases, considerable skill with markers - preferably washable ones - and we can fool homicidal eyes. Ooh, what's the wrinkly forehead again?"

"Castle, I just remembered, if he is using an infrared scope, whatever we use has to put out some heat, or he'll know it's a sham."

"Indeed, especially where you are concerned, he would be expecting to detect signs of inner fire. Never fear! Our staging may not blaze, but we can give him warmth. We'll fill the balloons with hot water instead of air. If we're careful, we can make them radiate at just about body temperature. It looks like Alexis isn't the only one who's going to be working on an art project tonight. One faux but convincing crime-busting duo coming up."


	21. Chapter 21

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 21

Kate regards the life-sized figures she and Castle have created to draw Lockwood's fire. "Castle, using photo transfers to create faces on our stand-ins was brilliant. If I were looking from any distance at all, I'd think that was us cuddling."

Castle shrugs. "It wasn't hard. I used to do it all the time to create T-shirts for Alexis whenever she had a new pre-teen heartthrob, which was every few months. And any photographs of you would look exceptional, Kate."

"You don't look so bad yourself, Babe. I just hope Lockwood takes the bait and the boys and their backup can move in."

Castle picks up the remote control for the blinds. "Are they all in position?"

Kate nods. "According to the text Esposito sent."

Castle holds up crossed fingers before grasping Kate's hand. "Here we go!" He thumbs the button to set the trap.

As the minutes pass with agonizing slowness, there's no sign of a response from Lockwood, until the sound of shattering glass breaches the silence of held breath. Water Castle dyed red to mimic blood, pours from black rimmed holes in the collapsing foreheads of Kate's and Rick's doubles. Kate grasps Castle's arm to keep him from moving from their spot out of the line of fire. "Lockwood may still be watching. Let Ryan and Esposito do their jobs."

Weapon held at ready, Esposito is the first one through the door of the apartment where Lockwood has built his nest. He glares at Lockwood who reaches for his rifle. "If you want to live into the next second, you'll put your hands behind your head, and get on the ground now."

Lockwood smirks as he sinks to his knees. "Putting me behind bars - for as long as you think you can keep me there - won't save Detective Beckett and her sidekick. They already met their maker."

Ryan grins at the figure surrounded by a circle of gun barrels. "I think you might be in for a surprise."

"You want to go to a hotel for the night?" Castle asks as he and Kate watch CSU document and collect the scattered shards of glass and the deflated forms of sacrificial Beckett and Castle. "You won't be able to reach the D.A. for deal-making until the morning, and even after the lab people clear out, it's going to be freezing in here until I can get the glass replaced. We'd have a warm bed, and room service might even have some halfway decent coffee."

Kate chews her lip while considering her response. "How about my place? We've never been together - that way- there."

"And you want to christen it, so to speak?"

Kate rolls her eyes. "I'm not sure the priest at Dad's church would agree with the use of that word, but I'd love to see you, see all of you, there. But you have to make the coffee."

"Deal."

* * *

When Kate unlocks the door of her apartment, Castle heads straight for the kitchen and the coffee pot. "Did you know your permanent filter has a hole in it?"

Kate shrugs. "I thought the coffee was tasting a little gritty."

"Yeah. I bet. I can take care of that for now by sticking a paper towel in there. That will make the brew less chewable." He pulls out his phone. "But I'm going to order you a new one." After making the requisite entries and swiping for an instant purchase, Castle replaces his cell in the pocket of his pants and inspects the contents of the refrigerator. "Kate, you have quite a collection of take-out containers in here, some of which seem well past their dates for best use. Your eggs are expired too, and your bacon has become a growth medium for something green. Considering the nitrite content of preserved pork, that's quite an accomplishment. Not much here that will be edible for breakfast in the morning, but I can manage eggless pancakes - I think. I make them for one of Alexis' friends who is allergic to albumin."

"Castle we could go somewhere for breakfast," Kate points out.

"Not if we want to maximize our time by ourselves before the big interrogation tomorrow."

Hips swaying, Kate slinks into the kitchen to grab hold of the firm flesh encased by the back of Castle's jeans.

Kate leans her head against Castle's shoulder. "You have a point. And you know Castle, we can drink the coffee later, and we could start on a little togetherness right now."

Castle slams the door of the refrigerator. "That's true. That's so true."

Kate grabs his hand and leads him toward the bedroom. Before she pulls him down on top of it, he notices that the bedspread is purple. With the most colorful choice in clothing he's seen Kate make, other than the dress they chose together for the seaport gala, being a red wrap coat, Castle had no idea of her preference for a shade at the cooler end of the spectrum. Well now he knows, and he can keep it in mind for future gifting - if he can keep anything in mind.

Kate is tugging at the buttons of Castle's shirt when the doorbell rings. "Don't get it," Castle urges. "You're off duty. Whoever it is can come back later."

"Castle almost no one knows where I live. I get my mail in a P.O. box. I need to see who it is. Keep my place warm. I won't be long."

Castle groans as Kate gets up, and watches through the partially closed door of the bedroom as she reveals who's on the threshold. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way back from a meeting, and I thought … we haven't spoken that much since you caught your mother's killer … I just wanted to see you. Can I come in?"

Kate opens the door wider. "Of course, Dad." The rich aroma drifting from the kitchen reminds her of Castle's improvisation. "You want some coffee?"

Jim Beckett puts up a hand. "No thanks. I had three cups at the meeting which is two cups more than I should have. I just wanted to talk to you." The floor in the bedroom creaks under Castle's feet. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

"Um, yes, I mean no, but there's someone you should meet. Castle?" Rick runs a hand through his hair and tentatively emerges from Kate's bedroom. "Dad this is Richard Castle."

Regarding Castle with a suspicious stare, Jim offers his hand. "Jim Beckett. My wife - I mean my late wife - enjoyed your books very much. I read Naked Heat and wondered how much of it was fiction. Not much, I see."

Castle can feel a rush of blood heating the skin of his face. "Mr. Beckett, I have nothing but respect for your daughter and what was in Naked Heat, it was fiction when I wrote it but things, uh, evolved."

"Evolved?"

"Dad, what Rick is trying to say is that we are together now, but it's very new, and we haven't been ready to announce it to the world."

The grooves in Jim's face deepen in a way that eerily reminds Castle of Kate. "I'm not about to post it on Tweeter, or whatever you call it, Katie, but are you happy?"

"For the first time in a long time, I am."

Jim turns to Castle, his eyes hardened by Beckett steel. "See that she stays that way, or you'll have more than chasing murderers and writing mysteries to worry about."

Castle raises his right hand as if swearing in court. "Yes, sir. I understand."


	22. Chapter 22

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 22

Kate tries to break through the awkward moment. "Dad, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Castle backs up a step. "Excuse me. I have to uh, um, make some notes for my next chapter." He points. "I'll just, um, be in there." Castle quickly strides away and closes the bedroom door behind him, leaning against it to take a breath. He'd hoped to meet Kate's father under less challenging circumstances, but at least it's one hurdle he's managed to get over without ending up flat on his face - or at least he hopes so. He might be able to write this situation into a Nikki heat somehow, even if he's portrayed Nikki's father in worse straits than Jim Beckett seems to be in. He pulls his ever-present notebook out of his shirt pocket.

Kate motions her father to a seat on the couch. "What is it, Dad?"

"Katie, I've been going through your mother's things - the ones we put in storage. It was time. I know you have a lot of her papers and that you used them to investigate her murder. But you know there's more. I think she'd want most of her stuff - except for what you want - to go to charity. There are some things - I still have her wedding dress. Johanna had it professionally preserved, with the process where they surround it with nitrogen so that the fabric doesn't age. It's beautiful. You look so much like her, and you're almost exactly the same size. I was wondering if someday you might want to wear it at your own wedding. To be honest, I haven't been sure one would ever be in the cards for you. Whenever it looked like you were about to get serious with someone, like that FBI agent, you ended the relationship. But then I've never seen you look at any man the way I just saw you look at Castle. Is my little girl growing up?"

"Dad, I think I might be. You're right, I never felt about Will, or anyone, the way I feel about Rick. But he and I have gone through a lot. We've almost died together, and I don't know if that's what's made things so intense, or he really is supposed to be my one and done. I mean, he's been married twice, and he has a daughter and - it's complicated."

"Life is complicated, Katie, but let me ask you a simple question. Do you want your mother's dress? Can you see yourself wearing it to pledge your life to Richard Castle?"

"I do Dad, and I think I can."

"Then you should know, he was looking at you the way you were looking at him. And now I'm going to get the hell out of here and leave you two alone."

Kate wraps her arms around Jim and kisses his cheek. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Katie."

After closing the door behind her father, Kate walks back to open the door to her bedroom slowly. Castle is sitting on the bed, wildly scribbling on a small pad of paper. "You really are making notes."

"It's better than pacing around wondering if your father was going to barge in and demand that I vacate the premises and never darken your door again."

Kate giggles. "Babe, I don't know which one of us was knocked more off base, when he showed up, but Dad and I have reached an understanding. He's OK with you being here, or about as OK as any father could be, I guess."

"As a father, I can tell you that may not be as OK as you think, but I'll take anything I can get."

Kate drapes herself across his lap and threads her fingers through his hair. "So, where were we?"

Dropping his notebook on the floor, he pulls her down to their previous position on the purple fabric. "Just about here."

Rick freezes for a moment as Kate reaches for the buttons on his shirt. "Castle, what's wrong?"

"Just waiting to see if we have any more visitors. Aunts, uncles, cousins? Perhaps a long-lost sibling?"

"Well, my Aunt Theresa can be pretty formidable, but she also goes to bed early so she can get up in time to tweet to the family in Europe while they're trying to eat lunch in peace. So I think we're safe."

Castle brushes the hair back from her face. "Kate, there's nothing safe about us."

Straddling his hips, she finishes unfastening his shirt. "I've never gone for safe anyway."

* * *

Barely laying down his phone, Bill Bracken slams his palm on the surface of his massive wood desk. Fuck! The police have Lockwood, and Beckett and Castle are still alive. Worse, Lockwood isn't at the Tombs. No one seems to know where he is, only that he'd be under heavy guard. If Flake were still in place, he'd have some idea of just what's going on and how dangerous his situation is. But right now, Bracken's essentially operating in the dark, and he doesn't like it at all.

He mentally goes through the list of his contacts. There's only one who might have an in on where Lockwood is. After law school, Lynn ended up in the D.A.'s office and never left. Other lawyers have come and gone, going on to politics or prestigious positions in law firms, but she's still there. They've stayed in touch over the years, exchanging Christmas cards and occasionally meeting for coffee. She's never told him much about what was happening at her office, but there was a case or two that she found interesting enough to talk about in a general way, that at least gave him some insight into the prevailing attitude in the D.A.'s domain. That information was helpful at times.

He should call her. With any luck, she might have a few free minutes tomorrow. She usually makes time when he calls. He checks his watch — nine o'clock. That's not too late to phone an overworked public servant. It's not too late at all.

* * *

It's seven a.m. when Lynn Neuwirth knocks on the door of the District Attorney's office. He's probably been in for an hour already. He's usually the first to arrive and the last to leave, which makes the lawyers serving under him work just that much harder. She enters at his call to come in.

District Attorney Adam Briggs is ten years younger than Lynn, but he looks five years older. His hair is almost entirely gray and rapidly thinning on top. There are arthritic nodules on two of his fingers, and he's already suffered through a double knee replacement. But there is nothing old about his eyes and his mind still moves at lightning speed. "Something happen, Neuwirth?"

"Sir, last night I was contacted by Senator William Bracken. He invited me to have lunch with him. We're meeting at Emile's at one."

"Emile's huh? Just the parking fee there would feed someone for a month. I assume you're planning on taking the subway?"

"Yes, Sir. Bracken seemed very anxious to talk."

Briggs' eyes narrow. "I bet he did. That's good Neuwirth, very good. You let me know what the Senator wants and get whatever else out of him that you can. Your phone has the upgraded recording function?"

"Yes, Sir, it does."

"Very good. We can analyze your conversation with the senator, together."


	23. Chapter 23

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 23

Kate stretches luxuriantly. It's almost nine a.m., but she won't be called in until everything is set up to question Lockwood. As soon as the boys had him booked, they escorted him to a safe house created by the District Attorney's office. Given the chance that Lockwood will be able to connect the dots between what happened at Rikers and the man who ordered it, no one is taking any chances with putting him there, at least until his statement has been made and recorded. Assuming that the D.A. gets what he wants, Lockwood will still be under 24/7 surveillance in the segregated population until he can give testimony in court.

Kate is anxious to participate in Lockwood's interrogation, but not so eager that she's willing to get out of bed just yet. She can feel the heat radiating from Castle's bare skin beside her. He's sleeping peacefully now, but even after they made love, he tossed through much of the night. She doesn't know what made him more nervous, having Lockwood try to kill them or meeting her father. She suspects it might be the latter.

She had some interesting dreams herself, involving a wedding dress. Her parents' wedding picture is still prominently displayed in her father's apartment, so she has a very clear mental picture of the gown her mother wore. She had no idea the image was so firmly ingrained in her mind until it insisted on dancing through her nighttime imaginings. Castle was there too, but not in a tuxedo. He was dressed a little like Han Solo, or maybe the space cowboy he likes so much. Martha was the Red Queen from Wonderland, and Alexis looked a little like Ariel but without the tail. Her father looked like himself except that he was wearing a sword with his suit. It was all bizarre, but somehow it seemed to make sense at the time.

She can hear Castle's heart beating, slow and steady as she snuggles into his chest. It speeds up slightly as he stirs beneath her, his long lashes lifting to reveal the grayish blue of his eyes. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her bed-mussed hair. "Good morning."

Kate pulls herself up enough to lightly kiss his lips. "Good morning yourself."

Castle runs his hands over the softness of her shoulders. "Quite a night."

"You mean Lockwood, my father showing up, or what happened after he left?"

"All of it. If I wrote a night like that my readers would never believe it. That much drama would have to take at least a couple of chapters. On the other hand," he continues, stroking the stubble on his chin, "it could make a great TV script. TV writers jam a lot into 42 minutes. But if I did, your father would probably come after me with a shotgun."

"Knowing my Dad, it would be a Louisville Slugger, but you have a point." Her fingertips take a walk beneath the covers. "You do have - a point."

"Um, yeah. Kate, after everything that's happened, I figure we should gather our rosebuds while we may."

"Castle, I have more interesting buds than roses."

He kisses the tip of one of her breasts. "You do at that."

Hot and moist, their lips collide as their bodies press for deeper contact. Kate's hips take on a life of their own, grinding and thrusting. Castle slips his hand between them, the most demanding bud of all growing and hardening in response to his touch. Kate reaches for him, urging him into the emptiness longing to be filled.

His large hands cup the firm globes of her buttocks, and she grabs his in return as he plunges more deeply into her greedy depths. Their breath comes in gasps, air struggling to fill their lungs before being forced to depart again by the intensity of their joining. The aging floor beneath the bed is creaking in time with the whine of the bedsprings as they thrash among the bedclothes, sheets and blankets kicked aside. The blaze rises like the desert sun, sweeping away all other sensation and holding them in its thrall until blown back by the force of their climax. Sleep again captures them in its grasp, until the emptiness of their stomachs wrests them free.

Castle surveys the contents of Kate's refrigerator, finding them unfortunately unchanged. "Kate, we really need to get you some decent groceries, but for now, how would you feel about a trip to Remy's, or any eatery with speedy service?"

"Remy's is fine, Castle. They do have those burgers. I think I could go for double - maybe a triple."

Castle hides his grin in the crook of his elbow. "I'm not surprised."

* * *

Lynn activates her phone to record her meeting, just before the maître d' at Emile's looks her up and down. She can almost hear him murmur _prêt-à-porter_ under his breath. But hell, she's proud that she shops off the rack. What jury or witness would trust a public official who looked like she just returned from Fashion Week? Her host is more impressed when she asks for Senator Bracken's table. " _Bien sûr_ , the senator is expecting you."

Lynn returns a dry _merci_ , as the maître d' leads the way to where William Bracken is waiting. It looks like he's already well into his scotch. Flashing his practiced politician's smile, he rises as she approaches and stands until she is seated. Wow! If he's showing her that kind of respect, he is desperate. Well, he should be. Most of the mortar has been knocked from between the bricks of his wall, and it should be collapsing soon - very, very soon."

* * *

It's four o'clock in the afternoon when the questioning of Lockwood finally starts. Adam Briggs himself is at the table, along with Kate and the Chief of Detectives. As a civilian, Castle has permission to be in the next room watching the video feed, but that was the best he could get. Briggs' face is impassive, but there are sparks of anticipation in his eyes.

The D.A. is about to bring down a big fish, the biggest fish of his career. He can feel it. If he wanted it to, this case could lead him right to the governor's mansion, but that's not his goal. He has no wish to be any more of a politician than he already is. He just wants to put away the bad guys, and there's no one worse than a man who has spent his life betraying the public trust.

Bracken's lunch with Lynn was enlightening. The senator waited until he was almost through with the first course to bring up the events of the night before. He was trying to pretend that he'd just been intrigued by a local newscast, but Lynn tagged his inquiry as much more than that. And Briggs could hear the rasp in the Senator's voice, when the more he pushed, the more Lynn claimed ignorance. She really was outstanding. He's always wondered why she never moved on from being an A.D.A., but then sometimes he wonders why he didn't stay one himself. The even taller stacks of paper associated with his job could suck the life out of anyone. She obviously enjoys her work and more power to her if she's happy where she is. Most of the lawyers who come through his office aren't nearly so wise or insightful.

Lockwood is staring across the table defiantly, but Briggs can see cracks forming in his demeanor. The man is scared. He's started to realize that no amount of political pull from his master will free him from the shackles that clink with his every move. That's good, very good. Now they can get down to business.


	24. Chapter 24

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 24

Adam Briggs' dark brown eyes drill into Lockwood's watery blue ones. "Mr. Lockwood, you were caught in the act of attempting to kill a police officer, as well as a civilian. We have information that you were behind at least one other homicide, but in terms of the penalties that will be meted out to you, realistically, that is of little consequence. The two attempted murders alone will send you to prison for life.

"We suspect that you are anticipating that a person of power who is behind these acts will be sweeping in and suddenly your prison door will spring open. I can assure you that will not happen. The reins of that power are at this very moment being cut. There is no help for you now except if I present mitigating circumstances to a judge who might make the rest of your life somewhat less of a living hell. But I will tell you this, Mr. Lockwood, men like you, don't engender my sympathy. You will do anything for a price - without remorse. That you served in a law enforcement capacity yourself makes your actions even more egregious. But at this juncture, that very lack of scruples or loyalty may be to your advantage. Give us your boss, the man who gave the kill orders and put you in this position."

"Lockwood, I promise you this," Kate interjects. "I will hunt him down, and I will nail his hide to the wall, and when I do, you will lose what little bit of leverage you have to protect your own ass. The countdown has already started. You have no idea how much time you have before what's left of your life implodes, but I assure you, it isn't long."

Lockwood studies the two implacable stares aimed at him from across the table. It's time to cut his losses. "It's Bracken, Senator William Bracken."

A smile flits across Briggs' thin lips. "Yes, we know. What you are going to do now is tell us everything you know about Bracken; every interaction you've had, every order you've received; every word you've ever heard him say. And if you leave anything out or attempt to lie or bend the truth in any way, you're finished."

* * *

Things have turned to shit! Bracken's cell phone won't function. Even his landline is unresponsive. His wifi is blocked as well. He can't transfer funds; he can't do anything except run. He picks up his briefcase, prepared to do just that when Kate Beckett appears in the doorway of his office. "Going somewhere, Senator?"

His fingers tighten around the handle of his briefcase. "I have an important appointment."

Kate waves a hand at the armored tactical squad accompanying her. "And these gentlemen will escort you to it."

* * *

Castle scrutinizes the newly installed panes in the loft. They are sandwiches of polycarbonate and glass that will protect it from the scratches that would in time, obscure the view through the bullet-resistant plastic if the harder but brittle surface didn't shield it. It's not a perfect solution. Unless he wants to retreat to an underground bunker, there isn't one - and even that would have its weaknesses. Still, his domicile is more secure than it was before - and warmer.

Kate will be with him, not because they have work to do, but because she wants to be. As far as he's concerned that will light up the place more than any row of windows ever could. She's been at the precinct while he waited for the glazer to arrive and do the work, but she promised to let him know if a body dropped. Her work as a homicide detective goes on. Bracken has sworn he will fight the charges against him, but it may be months until he comes to trial. Until then, it's back to the routine - except that they are partners now on a whole different level.

He doesn't know what he's going to tell Alexis. It will be the truth of course, but he's not entirely sure what that is. He and Kate are lovers, but the subject of where they will go from here hasn't even surfaced. Lover is a better term than girlfriend or oh God, "significant other." He's just not sure it's the word to use with his daughter, and he's out of time. He hears her come through the door. He covers the few steps it takes to greet her. "I take it your project was received to great acclaim."

"We got an A if that's what you mean. The kids are too cool to applaud, and the teachers aren't allowed to respond with anything that might be perceived as favoritism. Do I smell brownies?"

"Double fudge with chips and chunks."

"Bad news brownies. Come on Dad; I know your routine. I bet you bought two different kinds of ice cream to go on top of them."

"Three, but there's no bad news, just news. Kate, Detective Beckett is going to be staying here with us - with me."

"And by 'with me,' you mean you're not going to pretend she's sleeping on the couch."

"Hey! I wasn't pretending. She did sleep on the couch, at least to start, but then…"

"Dad, relax. I know you're in love with Detective Beckett. I figured it from the moment you came home after she dragged you out of your book party. I just didn't know what either of you would do about it. It looks like you've finally worked it out."

Castle shakes his head. "Not all of it, not even close. But we're making a start."

"Good. So where did you hide the brownies, and do you want whipped cream or marshmallows in your hot chocolate?"

"Under the Star Trek dish towel in the kitchen and definitely whipped cream."

* * *

Jamil McDonald drops into a seat across from Clem Watkins at a table filled with chicken and waffles. "I hear you took over the operation."

"More like reorganized. Simmons left a crap pile, and the new boss is cleaning things up. But we're moving product again, and we'll be moving a lot more of it very soon. How much can you handle?"

"Man, whatever you got, I can put out there. With the new stuff, all I have to do is give people a taste, and I have them. They'll give everything they've got to stay tanked up. And if the fools kill themselves, there are always more behind them."

Clem spears a piece of his waffle. "And those fucktards in DC talk like it's coming in from Mexico! They hardly search anything in the harbor. They haven't got the people, and they're putting the ones they do have in the wrong place. Listen, I've got a container being unloaded tonight. Top grade. I can get you everything you can sell and then some. I should have the first division and packaging of the shipment done by the day after tomorrow." He passes Jamil a folded piece of paper. "This is our new distribution center. Meet the bros there, and we'll load you up." The two men bump fists before Jamil tears into a piece of chicken.

Pretending to swipe through his messages while eating biscuits and gravy, Colby Chesmire picks up every detail of the conversation through the tiny speaker in his ear that receives a signal from the miniaturized amplifier in his phone. So the flow of poison continues. Damn! It was too easy to hope it would stop when Kate and Rick nailed Bracken.


	25. Chapter 25

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 25

The skin of Castle's face whitens as he listens to the call from Colby Chesmire. Kate reaches for his hand. "What's wrong, Babe?"

"Colby says that Simmons' operation has been taken over. There's a new distribution center for the concentrated version of fentanyl, that's killing people left and right. But the kicker is, the power behind it is still flowing out of DC."

"Maybe Colby got it wrong. Bracken's in prison. His funds have been frozen."

"Maybe not all of them. He has lawyers, right? They must be expecting to be paid, and he gets to talk to them. Or Bracken might have a partner. With as many strings as he was pulling all over the world, someone else could have been involved. Colby thinks whoever is running things now is highly placed, maybe as highly placed as Bracken was, just quieter."

"Highly placed men in Washington are rarely quiet, Castle."

"Kate, what if it isn't a man?"

"What are you getting at, Castle?"

"Think about it, Kate. Who's been in on our investigation? Who's known Bracken pretty much from the start but was willing to throw him under the bus when we got on to him? Who still has her committee seat?"

"Susan Collinwood. Castle, if it's her, she's one hell of an actor."

"Kate, politicians are essentially actors in a different venue. They convince people to go along with their stories and get paid to do it. The tremors, the shaky voice, all hiding a woman of steel. It's better than Clark Kent's glasses."

"Castle any disguise would be better than Clark Kent's glasses. I could never figure out how Lois Lane could be that clueless. But you're right. It all fits. Susan sees their entire drug empire in jeopardy. So she leads us toward Bracken. Maybe she even asks him to order Simmons to kill George Mercer. Maybe Mercer knew too much about her. Collinwood bets, and correctly, that we can take Bracken down. With him out of the way she reconstitutes New York operations, only this time she gets to keep all the profits."

"We have to stop her, Kate."

"How, Castle? There's no dead body. We don't have a case. Drugs are Narcotics' responsibility, along with the DEA, and we don't have a shred of proof of Collinwood's involvement, to offer either of them."

"But when a public figure falls from grace, it isn't always the result of a criminal investigation, at least not at first. Sometimes the press is way ahead of the prosecutors. Colby got a story, and he may get another Pulitzer out of the series he's writing about Bracken. If he covers the Collinwood angle too, it will blow things wide open."

"You have a point, Castle. The families of drug victims would have enough standing to bring civil suits. That would mean discovery. The U.S. Attorneys, Adam Briggs, even some investigative committees in Congress could issue subpoenas. But Colby will need more than our conjecture about Collinwood to write about, won't he?"

"He will," Castle agrees. "Kate, we may not be able to do anything official, but Collinwood thinks she pulled the wool over our eyes."

"She did."

"Well, she doesn't need to know we've brushed it back. Chances are if the drug operation in New York is all hers now, she may spend more time here, to make sure she's maximizing her cash flow. I'm sure that we can find one way or another to interact again with the senator. I believe that I read that Susan in a theater fan. I may even be able to enlist some help from Mother. Actor vs. actor. Collinwood will never know what hit her."

Kate's cell buzzes. "Castle, there's someone else who may never know what hit her. We have a body."

* * *

Perlmutter looks up from the corpse in his perpetual state of aggravation. "Time of death was sometime last night, Detective Beckett. With the temperatures we've been having, I won't be able to be any more exact than that until I get her back to the lab."

"No I.D. either," Ryan adds.

Castle gazes down at the victim. "I know who she is. Her name is Chelsea Meadows."

Kate scrutinizes what seems to have not long ago been an attractive woman. "How did you know her, Castle?"

"It was not an acquaintance I remember with fondness. She was a wedding planner. She had a reputation for wrangling bridezillas. She earned it. Gina hired her for our wedding. Believe me, that was not an easy gig."

Kate visualizes the brittle blonde she saw briefly at Castle's book party and had several phone conversations with when Castle attempted to hide from his ex-wife/publisher at the precinct. "I would imagine it wasn't, but being able to pull off a wedding is hardly a motive for murder."

"I can think of some grooms with buyers' remorse who might disagree with you."

Kate hunkers down next to Perlmutter. "Do you have a cause of death?"

"Stabbed, right in the heart. From the appearance of the wound, the killer twisted the knife, too." With a disturbing grin, Perlmutter mimes the action he describes.

"Twisting a knife in the heart. There's a story there," Castle speculates.

Kate rises to face him. "But the question is, who's telling it. How much do you know about Chelsea Meadows, Castle?"

"Not a lot. I stayed away from Gina's marital maneuverings as much as possible. My opinion wouldn't have counted for much anyway. You know, Alexis probably knows more than I do. Gina was always trying to engage her in the process. I guess she figured things would be a lot easier if she could be partners in crime with her future stepdaughter."

"How did that work out?"

"At the time, Alexis was more interested in ceremonial lightsaber competitions than wedding ceremonies, but I believe they did consult on colors, especially the colors they imposed on me. To this day, I have a hard time looking at turquoise tuxedos, even on a Las Vegas stage where they belong. But Alexis had one something like mine very briefly for her Ken doll before she turned him into a Jedi warrior. Wearing that thing made me feel like Ken and I were missing the same parts of our anatomy."

"I'll make a note of that, Castle."

His eyebrow quirks as he muses on why Kate would care about his choice of wedding attire. But this is not the place or time to explore the question. "Alexis will be home from school in a few hours. It is one of the rare days when she doesn't have any extra-curricular activities. If you want to talk to her, you can do it then. In the meantime, I seem to recall that Chelsea has a mother, also in the business. Last I heard, Chelsea had never tied the knot herself, so her mother is most likely her next of kin."

Kate nods. "Then we should talk to her first. God, Castle, after all this time, I still hate having to do this, break the news to the family that someone they love is dead. You'd think I'd be used to it my now."

"Kate, if you were," Castle murmurs, "you wouldn't be the compassionate woman that you are. I'll be there for you; you know that, right?"

"Yeah, Castle. I do."

A/N If you are interested, I have a new The Rookie one-shot called "Treacherous Trail." Henry comes to visit.


	26. Chapter 26

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 26

Gloria Meadows' fingers curl tightly around her damp handkerchief as if it's a lifeline. Kate wishes there was something she could do to ease the pain, but she knows from bitter experience that there isn't. "Ms. Meadows, I'm sorry for your loss, but if you can answer some questions, it may help us to catch Chelsea's killer."

Gloria nods mutely.

"Do you know if anyone was angry with Chelsea? Did she receive any threats?"

Gloria swipes at her eyes. "No. Who would want to hurt a wedding planner? Chelsea and I make dreams come true. Oh, no, wait! There was someone. The would-be husband of one of Chelsea's clients."

"Would-be?" Castle repeats.

"Yes. The marriage never took place. It was supposed to be a spring ceremony, planned to be in a field of flowers - wild daisies. The reception was going to be in a tent nearby. The caterers brought portable equipment for whatever last-minute cooking they would have to do. But something went wrong. A propane stove blew up. Thank God, no one was seriously hurt, but the tent caught fire, and the field started to burn as well.

"The wedding was postponed and then finally canceled. The groom, Harley Masterson, blamed it on Chelsea because she was the one who recommended the caterers. We'd both used them many times before without any incidents, but somehow, he thought Chelsea should have known. He posted bad reviews of her business all over the web and filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau.

"He also filed suit against Chelsea and the caterers. The judge dismissed the lawsuits, and the BBB listed the complaint as resolved. Masterson went crazy. He started using Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, anything he could to rail against Chelsea. When years of happy brides defended her, it just made him crazier. He started calling Chelsea, saying her heart should be destroyed the way his was. Then after a while, he went quiet, and Chelsea thought he'd calmed down, or maybe fallen in love with someone new. She must have been wrong. You need to arrest Harley Masterson."

"Ms. Meadows, we will question Harley Masterson and investigate what you've told us. If there is a case against him, we will pursue it," Kate assures the distraught woman. "But even if it isn't Masterson, I promise that we will work as hard as we can to bring Chelsea's murderer to justice."

Castle puts his arm around Kate's shoulders as they return to her unit. "That was rough."

"No rougher than usual. But I'm glad you were with me."

"If it was Harley Masterson, Gloria's story fits - especially the thing about destroying Chelsea's heart. I think Perlmutter got off on describing what the murderer did with the knife. That man is creepy."

"Creepy or not, Castle, he's a good M.E., and he gave us a lead. Maybe he's got the time of death pinned down by now. Without one, we won't be able to know if Masterson has an alibi or not. Let's go to the morgue and see what Perlmutter has."

* * *

The balding M.E. is no less abrasive than he was at the murder scene. "You didn't give me much time, but I can tell you that the murder took place between eight and ten last night. The body wasn't moved. She was killed in the parking lot where we found her."

"That makes sense," Kate notes. "Esposito sent me a text saying Chelsea's car was only a couple of feet away. She must have been trying to get to it when the killer over-powered her and stabbed her. That area is full of businesses that are open late. She could have been coming from any one of them."

"Or visiting someone in one of the apartments above them," Castle adds.

"The boys are running a canvass of the area. They should be able to find out. Now the question is, where was Harley Masterson between eight and ten last night."

* * *

Harley refuses to let Kate and Castle into his apartment, declaring that he can answer any questions they have from where he is standing in the doorway. "More about Chelsea Meadows! Hasn't that bitch done enough to ruin my life already?"

"That bitch is dead," Castle informs him. "Obviously you didn't care much for her."

"Care much for her? I hated her guts! I should be married now. Lily and I should have used the money I saved, toward a down payment on a little house somewhere. Instead, I have no wife, and I spent almost every dime I had on lawyers."

"Hated her enough to kill her?" Kate presses.

"Kill her? Wait, no! I was trying to forget she existed so I could get my life together again."

"Mr. Masterson, while you were trying to forget her, where were you between eight and ten last night?" Kate demands.

"I went to a movie, Shutter Island, at Cinema Eight."

"You have your ticket stub?"

Harley shakes his head. "Who the hell keeps ticket stubs? But there were cameras in the lobby. I should have been caught by one of them. You can check."

"Believe me, Mr. Masterson, I will," Kate assures him.

"Are we just going to leave like this?" Castle asks as he and Beckett walk down two flights of stairs.

"Of course not, Castle. I'm going to have Masterson kept under surveillance until we can check his alibi, but I think he might have been telling the truth. He seemed genuinely surprised that Chelsea is dead."

"He did at that, but I'm not sure anyone is as they seem anymore."

"Castle, that's good. You're beginning to think like a cop. I'll have Ryan scrub the video from the theater. If Masterson was telling the truth, we'll need a new suspect. And I think now would be a good time to talk to Alexis."

* * *

Over cocoa and leftover brownies, Alexis props up her chin with the palm of her hand. "I remember Chelsea Meadows. She was nice. She told me what she thought a wedding between Princess Leia and Han Solo would be like. It was fun. I can't think of anything she could have done to make someone want to kill her. I mean, Dad was pretty angry about his tuxedo, but he got over it."

"More or less," Castle puts in.

"But Chelsea did say she was glad that Gram and I were easy. I guess Gina's mom was a little pushy, even if Dad was paying for the wedding. And Gina's father didn't seem to be very happy that she was marrying Dad." Alexis turns to Castle. "Didn't he leave the reception before it was over?"

Castle nods. "Come to think of it he did. He said he had some business to take care of, but Gina told me he was retired. I only saw him once or twice while Gina and I were married. He wasn't the friendliest fellow I've ever known."

"None of which helps us solve Chelsea's murder, but thank you, Alexis. You have given me a clearer idea of what Chelsea had to handle with weddings."

Alexis downs the rest of her cocoa. "That reminds me. I have to call Paige. Her father is getting married again, and she's trying to figure out what to wear."

"Go ahead, Sweetheart," Castle urges. "Kate and I have another case to discuss."

Kate watches Alexis disappear up the stairs before she says anything. "You want to talk about Susan Collinwood."

"Yeah, I do. As I've thought more about my theory, some things just don't make sense."


	27. Chapter 27

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 27

"What doesn't make sense, Babe?"

"If Bracken has a partner, why didn't he make a deal to flip? It's not as if he has any loyalty. Sociopath that he is, he should have done anything he could to save his ass."

"You have a point."

"Then there's the matter of why Bracken is still alive at all. You would think a partner would want to take him out of the game the minute he was caught. Dead men tell no tales."

"Lanie and Perlmutter might disagree with you about that, but you're right - unless Bracken thinks he's going to get out of this somehow or that he'd be in even more danger if he does talk. Or our theory about Susan Collinwood or anyone being Bracken's partner might be completely out in left field. Maybe someone just saw taking control of the drug trade as a target of opportunity. But I don't think so."

"I don't think so either," Castle agrees. "It is up and running again too damn fast. There's something we're just not seeing."

Kate's cell buzzes. She pales, her breath coming in gasps as she reads the message on the screen. "Rick, Bracken wants to see me."

Castle reaches for her hand. "Can you handle seeing him?"

"If we're going to figure this out, I'll have to."

* * *

Bracken's aura of confidence has vanished. "Thank you for coming, Detective. And you might as well hear this too, Mr. Castle, since you've chosen to involve yourself. Look I'm finished, I know that. Briggs has enough to put me away until the next millennium, and there will no doubt be federal charges too as if it really matters."

"It matters to the families of all the victims of the poison that was sold to fill your pockets and finance your campaign," Kate throws back, "just like the murder of my mother matters to me. You don't actually expect me to have any sympathy for you, do you?"

"No, I don't," Bracken confesses. "But I know you, Detective. I've followed your career. I did it to make sure you weren't getting too close, but also because you interest me. You turned your anger at your mother's death…"

"Her murder," Kate interrupts.

"Her murder," Bracken acknowledges, "you turned your fury into a crusade for justice. And I know that you won't see any justice in an innocent person being hurt."

"What innocent person?" Castle asks.

"I have a son," Bracken explains, "Not one of my children with my wife. He was born when I was in my first term as a congressman. It was covered up, both for my sake and his mother's. She was as ambitious as I was. His maternal grandmother raised him. He knows about my political career, but he's been untouched by anything else that I did. His grandmother died some years ago. I've made sure that he's had whatever he needed, college, grad school, a decent job. He's been working for a pharmaceutical company, but with me in here, he's going to be more under his mother's influence, and from what little I've been able to find out now, he may be drifting."

"Drifting how?" Kate asks.

"His mother was my partner, with Simmons, with all of it. She's kept a lower profile than I have and worked very effectively behind the scenes. But now she's taken over, and I don't want her to pull our son into it."

Kate leans across the table. "Is your son's mother Susan Collinwood?"

Bracken nods. "So you figured it out. Kudos, Detective."

"Actually, it was Castle who figured it out," Kate confesses.

Bracken regards the writer. "How?"

"Have you ever watched Perry Mason, Bracken? The original ones from the '50s and '60s- not the later incarnations."

"A few. Having someone confess in court week after week seemed a little ridiculous."

"Granted," Castle agrees, "but it was always easy to tell who the murderer was since it was never Perry's client. There was always a character at the periphery, portrayed by an actor who was too well paid and too well known to play a minor role. Susan Collinwood is like that. She's been at the periphery of all of this. Apparently, she's even more ambitious than you gave her credit for. She wanted it all, your business, perhaps your son, but so far, she hasn't quite been able to bring herself to put a hit out on his father."

"Or hasn't been able to manage one, yet. That was always more my end of the business. My soldiers, like Lockwood, didn't even know about her. But my point is, I don't want my son dragged into this. I need you to expose her and take her down - as you did me. And I can give you all the information you'll need to do it - just keep my son out of it."

Kate chews her lip. "I can try, but if Susan has already pulled him in, I'm not about to shield him. And I'm Homicide. Unless you expect me to turn this over to Narcotics, I need a case that involves a murder - in the part of Manhattan covered by the 12th Precinct."

"And I can give you one," Bracken promises. "When Susan became my partner, I looked deeply into her history. I needed something I could use to keep her in line in case she had some sudden come to Jesus moment. I found it. When she was in Law School, she and another student were up for the same award - with a considerable cash prize attached to it. Before the winner was announced, Susan's competition, a girl named Callie Freedwell, disappeared. I remembered the newspapers briefly running the story. Callie was later found dead, with her boyfriend, right in your jurisdiction, Detective. They'd eaten some bacterially contaminated lobster. That can happen if you wait too long to freeze or cook them once they're dead. The M.E. called it an accidental death."

"Right," Castle agrees. "That's why lobsters are often boiled alive - much to the distress of the animal rights groups. They're much safer to eat that way. Susan's father was a lobsterman. She'd know that."

"She would, and she did," Bracken confirms. "She made a trip to Maine, to an area where the ocean was known to be infested. All she would have had to do was let the lobster sit long enough for toxins to form, then freeze it before sending it to Callie."

Castle nods vigorously. "Bacteria are killed by cooking, but it doesn't destroy the toxins they produce. It's a fairly clever method for murder. I was considering using something like it in one of my books, but Robin Cook wrote a much better story using toxic E. coli."

"And you have the evidence that Susan Collinwood did all that?" Kate interjects.

"I do." Bracken claims, "or rather it is in a very safe place. You promise me that you'll protect my son, and I'll tell you where it is."

Kate's voice softens. "The most I can promise is that I'll do the best that I can, Bracken."

"We will need one more thing," Castle adds.

Bracken's hands fist. "What?"

Castle can't repress the upward turn of his lips. "You never told us your son's name. I assume it's not William H. Bracken, Jr."

"No. It's Joshua, Joshua Pelletier."


	28. Chapter 28

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 28

Castle glances around as Kate navigates a neighborhood wedged between the '90s and Harlem. "This is where Bracken grew up. It's come up in the world, but there were parts of it that were rough. That may be how he picked up his drive."

Kate's gloved fingers tighten on the wheel. "Or his ruthlessness. The place we're looking for should be in the next block."

The tailor shop seems to be out of a different era. The sewing machines are electric, but one of them was clearly originally a treadle. Fabrics are lovingly displayed and photographs of several clients: actors, and musicians, along with a very young William Bracken, are hanging on the wall. Castle surveys the blond, blue-eyed image. "The senator wasn't bad looking in his early days — kind of like an actor who was on the original Dynasty. I met him a couple of times. He's a friend of Mother's. He's doing a science fiction show now, but he looks a lot better than Bracken does. Bracken's sins are etched in his face. No portrait in the attic to take on the marks of his dirty deeds. Evil will out."

"Right now what's important is that he was straight with us about what's supposed to be here."

A man who looks like he dates back to the founding of the shop appears from a back room and appraises what's visible of Castle's shirt from under his heavy coat. "Ah, custom made. Looking for a new supplier?"

Castle eyes the perfectly crafted shirts hanging on a rack. "Possibly, you do excellent work, but we are here on another mission."

Kate steps forward. "We were told to ask for Bill's box."

"Ah, Bill. I make all of his clothes. I have since he graduated from law school. When he was growing up, his mother used to help in the shop, and he would be here playing or doing his homework. I gave him a box to keep his things in. He told me once that he put what was important in there. But if he wanted you to get into it, he should have given you the password that we agreed upon when he was a boy."

Kate nods. "Nine flies."

"That's correct," the old man concedes. "I'll fetch it. You can use my back room to go through it."

Kate lifts the well-scarred lid. "I never would have pictured Bracken having anything to do with a place like this."

"It happens, Kate. People with innocent-seeming pasts can be seduced by money and power, but in a way, you could anticipate what was coming from Bracken's password."

"I don't understand Castle. What does 'nine flies' mean?"

"It's from a fairy tale called _The Brave Little Tailor_. The protagonist of the story killed nine flies with one swat. And he was so proud that he stitched himself a belt saying, "Nine at One Blow." In the story, the people who saw it thought he was a mighty warrior who slew nine enemies. The character's a lot like Bracken; ever since he joined the D.A.'s office, he's made the public think that he's someone or something that he's not. In a way, he hasn't changed much at all. But to the task at hand. What's in the box?"

"It's exactly what Bracken described to us, Castle, the documentation of Susan Collinwood's trip to Maine, and copies of her receipt for sending lobster to Callie Freedwell. We'll have to dig up the original M.E.'s report and run it by Lanie and verify as many other details of Bracken's story as we can, but it looks like for once he was telling the truth." Kate checks her watch. "And the boys should be finished with their canvass and scrubbing of the theater video by now. We'll have to get back to Chelsea Meadows' murder."

"Yeah, normally, I wouldn't cheer for Harley Masterson to be guilty. Having our first suspect turn out to be the perp, can make for a downright boring story, but this time it would be nice to be able to close the case. Then we could go both go after Susan Collinwood, and give Gloria Meadows some closure."

* * *

"Harley Masterson didn't do it," Ryan announces as Kate and Castle arrive in the bullpen. "He went to the movies, just like he claimed. I have images of him arriving at the beginning of our murder window and leaving at the end of it."

Kate throws her coat on the back of her desk chair. "Damn! Espo, what did we get out of the canvass?"

"Writer-boy was right about Chelsea visiting someone in an apartment above one of the stores. There's a pad over the flower shop where the Roswells, the family that runs the place, live. They switch off shifts so they can keep the place open extra hours, and they don't lose business to the big box stores and supermarkets. Greta Roswell, the mama of the clan, was up there. She and Chelsea have been doing business for years. Greta's special ordered flowers for Chelsea and made the stuff you see at weddings, but Greta hasn't been feeling well lately, so Chelsea came to see her as a friend. Greta said that Chelsea told her that her evenings were free because she broke up with her boyfriend."

"Gloria Meadows never said anything about Chelsea having a boyfriend," Castle recalls.

"She might not have known, Castle," Kate points out. "Women don't necessarily tell their parents when they start dating someone, especially if they don't know if it's going to be serious. It can cause too many expectations. I've had several girlfriends whose mothers would start talking about how nice it would be to have grandchildren, every time they mentioned they were seeing a guy. After a while, they stopped saying anything. But I've had murders come out of splits before - especially bad breakups. "Espo, did Greta Roswell give you a name?"

"She said Chelsea talked about a 'Dick,' she didn't get the last name."

"Could have been a description," Castle points out. "That's why I've always preferred Rick. It's less ambiguous."

Kate reaches for her coat. "Maybe we can find something in Chelsea's apartment that will tell us who he is."

Castle pulls a locked volume out of Chelsea Meadows' underwear drawer. "Alexis used to have one of these before she started journaling on her laptop. Got your picks?"

It takes Kate about 30 seconds to open the leather-bound diary. "I know we have to do this Castle, but this kind of thing always seems sort of ghoulish to me."

"It is, Kate. You're digging into Chelsea's heart and soul, but that's where the secrets - and possibly the murderous ex-boyfriends lie."

Kate pages toward the end of the notations. "Here it is, Castle. From what she's written, Dick was both a name and a description. She found out he was stealing at his job. Worse than that, he works for a nonprofit that runs food pantries. He's stealing from hungry children."

"I can think of a lot of worse words for him," Castle declares. "Is his surname in there?"

Kate flips back through pages. "Not that I can see. You read faster than I do. You might have better luck. I did find the name of the charity. It's "Full Bellies means Full Hearts.'"

"A noble sentiment to be sure. I know them. Alexis and I usually drop canned goods off at their collection centers before Thanksgiving and Christmas. Alexis' school runs a food drive for them too. Good cause. Good people. No wonder Chelsea was upset. The man should be strung up by the eponymous part of his anatomy."

"She was more than upset, Castle. Her last entry says that she is going to turn him in. If he knew that…"

"That's an even better motive than a breakup," Castle finishes. "We need to get this guy."

"We will."


	29. Chapter 29

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 29

Kate sighs as she puts down her phone. "The administrator at Full Bellies Means Full Hearts says a Dick Koonz is working there, but he hasn't shown up in a couple of days. The organization isn't aware of any theft, but they haven't had an audit yet this fiscal year, and that's where it would show up. She's going to put her accountant on it. She gave me Dick's contact information. I doubt that we'll find him at his apartment, but he might have left clues behind, or his neighbors might have some idea where he is. Let's go."

Castle slips his coat back on over his custom-made purple and white striped shirt. Kate likes this one, probably because of the purple, but Bracken's mentor tailor also does some damn fine work. When he has the time, he may order a few things from him - maybe even his next tuxedo. He would have liked to burn the turquoise one, but Mother convinced him to donate it to a struggling improvisational theater company. No doubt an actor can come up with a reasonable scenario or two using it as a jumping off point.

Kate has little trouble getting a warrant since she has probable cause to believe Koonz is at the very least, guilty of grand theft. Koonz's apartment is forty blocks uptown. It would be a long walk but it's a short ride and Kate is riding the limit of a safe speed. No one answers the door - no surprise there. The harried super is in the midst of fixing a cranky furnace but stops working long enough to let them in. As Kate had assumed, it is clear that Koonz is gone. All of his clothes are missing, and the toiletries are gone from the bathroom. Sheets, towels, food, and pots and pans are still there, as are some books and knick-knacks. Koonz left in a hurry. If he didn't have time to map out his departure, his trail should be easier to follow.

As far as Kate has been able to determine, Koonz has no car, but he does have a driver's license. He could have rented a vehicle. She has a watch on his debit and credit cards.

Castle makes a slow circuit of Koonz's apartment, noting some sports memorabilia. "Kate, Koonz is a hockey fan. The Canadiens. If I were one and I wanted to get away from New York, and possibly this country, I'd head for Montreal."

"He might have, Castle. We can check flights. And he would have had to use his passport. We can check those records too. But if he is in Montreal, we'll have to work with the RCMP and extradite him to get him back here."

Castle rocks on the balls of his feet. "I've loved the Mounties ever since I saw my first Dudley Do-Right cartoon."

"Castle, the real Mounties are very different, but I'm hoping we don't have to deal with them and that Koonz is still in the United States, hopefully somewhere in New York.

* * *

Dick Koonz is stuck in Niagara Falls - on the wrong side. He was planning on driving over the border, but a snowstorm and a cascade of accidents closed the road. He had no trouble finding a hotel. There aren't too many honeymooners this time of year. But he isn't unremarkable as a single. He has too much luggage. He should have left some of his clothes behind, but he wasn't thinking all that straight.

He hadn't planned out what he did to Chelsea very well, either. It wasn't like him. He scheduled getting away with the money he took from FBMFH, perfectly. He started skimming it right after the last audit, and by the time they got around to the next one, he would have thoroughly covered his tracks. He hadn't counted on leaving New York City so soon either. He'd had visions of keeping Chelsea in his bed until he did, but then she had to start snooping. She was suspicious of how he could afford Italian shoes and the newest iPhone while working for a charitable organization, and started checking the deposit receipts in the pockets of his jackets.

Of course, he denied that he had done anything wrong, but she didn't believe him. It was bad enough that she broke up with him, but he could always get another girlfriend. Her threat to go to the cops was too much. He isn't sure if he'd really intended to kill her, or just frighten her, but when she wouldn't back down, he had no choice. The blood ruined his good blue shirt too. He had to throw it away before he picked up his rental car.

* * *

Kate scans the report from CSU. The stain on the shirt the unis found in a dumpster two blocks from Koonz's apartment matches Chelsea Meadows' blood. If the DNA from the very sweaty collar is a match to Koonz, they'll have him nailed. They just have to find him.

His financials show no charge for renting an automobile, but he did make a cash withdrawal sizable enough for the required deposit to obtain one. Rent a Ride reported a cash transaction with an R. Koonz, and the driver's license number matches him. The idiot might just as well have used a credit card for as much as his attempt to cover his trail worked. There are no charges along any highway, but he didn't disable the GPS on his rental.

Koonz is in Niagara Falls. She can have the State Troopers pick him up, and while she's waiting for him to be transported back to the city, she and Castle can double check the information in Bracken's mysterious box and run down Bracken's son. It shouldn't be too hard. There are a lot of pharmaceutical companies around New York City, but not many of them should have employees named Joshua Pelletier.

* * *

Susan Collinwood's voice is trembling more than usual as she meets Joshua for coffee. She was hoping that she'd be able to encourage him to work on her project to create a cheaper method to synthesize fentanyl, so she could get away from importing her supplies from China. He has no idea that she's asking him to sign on to an illegal operation. Her story is that she'd invested in a startup, but Joshua wants no part of the increasingly deadly drug. He thinks he's on the edge of a breakthrough for a new asthma treatment, which holds a special place in his heart because his best friend growing up could never stray far from a rescue inhaler.

For the moment, Susan decides to cease her verbal efforts to get him to join her, but she wants to keep Joshua close - and she needs to cut ties with her Chinese connection. Bringing product in by sea doesn't leave much of a trail - especially since as a senator, she continues to ensure there isn't enough money appropriated for adequate inspections of cargo containers. Still, it is a trail, and one day she could be unlucky. She can't push too hard. Joshua has inherited stubbornness from both her and Bill.

Nevertheless, he'll come around. She'll just have to make it impossible for him to stay where he is. She has connections in the FDA who can lean on his employer. She can make his present position untenable, or make it disappear entirely. Working for her will be better than not working at all.


	30. Chapter 30

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 30

"Once again the wrinkly brow," Castle notes.

Kate stuffs her phone in her pocket in disgust. "None of the pharmaceutical companies in the area will release their personnel records without a court order, and I don't have any basis to ask for one."

"There may be another way, Kate. Joshua's a researcher, right? That means he's put out a paper or two every so often. The company might even want him to, to boost their image. There was actually a scandal a while back because scientists published research without disclosing their connections to companies or products that might have biased their results. I believe that these days, in reputable journals, any such influences are clearly stated. If we find a paper by Joshua Pelletier, we'll have his contact information, or at the very least, where he works."

"That's a great idea, Castle. Can you get on it? Lanie told me that she'd be able to dig up the original M.E. report on Callie Freedwell and go over it. She's supposed to be letting me know soon about anything that might have been misinterpreted or overlooked." Lanie's ringtone emanates from Kate's slacks. "That's her now. I'll put her on speaker."

"Kate, and Castle too, if you're with her, I think the M.E. who did the Freedwell autopsy may have missed something, through no fault of his own. Detection of bacteria in the bloodstream at the time was considered unreliable. General levels of contamination hadn't been established yet, so he reached his conclusion based on stomach contents and the degree of damage to the body, instead of a blood culture, which would have been negative or not shown much, if most of the bacteria had been dead when the lobster was eaten. Callie was severely dehydrated, so much so that her organs shut down, and both she and the other victim were highly susceptible, for two different reasons. If it was murder, the killer might have expected only one death. Callie was immune suppressed because she'd had a kidney transplant. The other victim had a genetic disease called thalassemia, which the killer probably wouldn't have known about. I can see why the original M.E. might have considered the two deaths a tragic coincidence."

"But it looks like a murder to you?" Castle prompts.

"Given the extremely high load of toxin in the bodies, I'd say that it was likely, but my opinion wouldn't be strong enough to convict without supporting evidence."

"It's still worth a lot Lanie," Kate assures her friend. "Thanks, I owe you one."

"Girlfriend, you owe me about a thousand, but who's counting?"

"So now what?" Castle asks after Kate ends the call.

"Now we finish checking what we can, based on the records in Bracken's box. If they stand, we take what we have to Briggs and see if he's willing to bring charges against Susan Collinwood."

"And if he's not?

"Then we'll need some help from your pal Colby Chesmire. If he publishes all the evidence, the Senate will be pressured to investigate, and maybe the House too. If Susan Collinwood is doing what we think she's doing, it will come out."

"And Joshua Pelletier?"

"Once we find him, we keep an eye on him to make sure he's not pulled into his mother's mess."

"And we're doing that for Bracken?"

"No," Kate declares. "We're doing it for Joshua. No one should have to pay for their parents' sins."

* * *

"Kate, I found him!" Castle calls out excitedly as Kate pours two mugs of coffee in the kitchen.

"Joshua Pelletier?"

"Uh huh. I found a paper he wrote on combatting the migration of cells that cause asthma attacks. It looks like he does worthwhile work. If he's right, it could help a lot of people to breathe easier. But anyway, according to the disclosure, he works for ATGC. If I recall, the city gave them a huge tax break to build a new research center in a neighborhood where Mayor Weldon is trying to promote gentrification. Joshua probably works there. In any case, his email is in the article. We can reach him that way."

"Castle, it will look pretty strange contacting him out of the blue."

"Not if I do it on behalf of Breathe Free. I'm on the Board. It's mostly an honorary position. They trot me out when they can't get a TV or movie star for a fundraising event. Alexis talked me into getting involved when she had a classmate who almost died of an asthma attack. I can tell Joshua I want to get familiar with his work and invite him to lunch with us."

"And what are you going to tell him about why I'm there, Castle?"

"You're my… I don't think muse will work in this instance, Kate. Are you ready for me to say, girlfriend, although the word is a gross understatement?"

Kate chews on her lip and shrugs. "I suppose since I practically live with you, our relationship isn't going to be under wraps much longer. But how about just saying friend, for now?"

Castle can feel the muscles in his neck tighten. "Yeah, sure Kate. I can do that."

* * *

Joshua Pelletier isn't accustomed to taking long lunches, but meeting with Richard Castle can be considered work-related - and reading the mystery writer's books on plane flights to conferences has often made for a nice change of pace, especially since he could always find them at airport booksellers. He immediately recognizes Kate as the real-life version of Nikki Heat. Castle's friend. Uh huh. If that's all she is, Castle is missing out big time. But that's not really Joshua's business. He's here to explain his work.

Usually take out Sichuan food is much more his style than the cuisine at a place like Chaise Magnifique, but the food is good, and the portions are adequate. He's doing his best to explain his research over coq au vin with asparagus and rice. To their credit, neither Richard Castle's or Kate Beckett's eyes are glazing over. Castle even gives him his private email and invites him to stay in touch about any developments in his field that he finds exciting. Joshua just may do that. He can always use a patron of the sciences with a social media megaphone.

* * *

"What do you think?" Castle asks as he and Kate take a cab back to the loft. "Do you believe that Susan can tempt Joshua to join her dirty enterprise?"

"I doubt it, Castle. He seems to be passionate about doing good things in this world. I'm beginning to wonder if he really is Bracken's son."

"Yeah, you would think that with a double dose of bad seed DNA like that, he'd be more Walter White than Snow White. But he has a mole on his cheek that is exactly the same as one Bracken has. It would strain credulity to believe that they weren't related. Personally, I find Joshua's attitude hopeful. It's encouraging that a man can come from two parents like William Bracken and Susan Collinwood and still embrace the light. His story is very Luke Skywalker. Despite Emperor Palpatine's efforts to make him an apprentice, he didn't go to the dark side."

"You're right, Castle. That is hopeful. And after years of seeing the worst of humanity on the job, that's the kind of a new hope that I need."

Castle wraps Kate's slim hand in both of his. "Stick with me, Detective Beckett, and we'll wield the force for good, together."


	31. Chapter 31

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 31

Kate, immersed in her paperwork, hears the ding of the elevator but doesn't see Castle bounce into the bullpen. "Kate, I found it, corroboration of Susan Collinwood's fatal trip to Maine." He hands her the printout of an article from a local Maine newspaper. "See, it's an account from a lobsterman who took her out to show her how his living was being destroyed by the high levels of Vibrio bacteria in the ocean where he had been putting his pots. He says she even wanted a couple of lobsters to submit to a lab for testing so she could publicize the problem.

"That was days before the date on the receipt showing Susan sent lobsters to Callie Freedwell. She would have had just enough time to kill them, let the bacteria grow and produce the toxin, then freeze them again. There's also no sign that Susan ever publicized a thing. Her name doesn't appear once in any story written at the time about Vibrio contamination. She wanted those lobsters as a murder weapon, impure and simple."

Kate reaches up to touch his face. "That's great work, Babe. Now we have to put together a narrative to take to Briggs that will cover every angle, including what Lanie told us. She emailed a report to me, and I forwarded it to you."

"I saw it," Castle confirmed. "I can work on the tale of the lethal lobsters while you finish up whatever drudgery you're doing, then you can go over it with a merciless red pencil."

"All right," Kate agrees. "You can use the conference room, but this isn't drudgery. I'm typing up a report on Chelsea Meadows' murder. The lab matched Koonz's DNA to the shirt with her blood on it, so I'm putting together everything the A.D.A. should need to offer the least generous plea deal. I should be able to join you in an hour or so."

"Ah, Dick will get his worst possible comeuppance. Excellent! I will anxiously await your presence."

* * *

Briggs looks up after scanning the file Kate handed him. "Coming after the Bracken affair, this could set Washington on its ear. I'm going to have to proceed carefully and put my own investigators on this. I trust you, Detective, and Mr. Castle, too. It's just that under the circumstances, I'll have to make sure every 'I' is dotted and every 'T' is crossed. When I'm sure we have everything nailed down, this is going to be one hell of a case."

Kate nods. "Yes, sir. But there is also the drug angle. The operation Collinwood took over from Bracken is claiming more victims every day. You don't want to drag your feet on this."

"One thing at a time, Detective," Briggs declares. "If we get the homicide case against Collinwood knocked, the collapse of her narcotics network may take care of itself."

Castle shakes his head as he and Kate leave Briggs' office. I don't like this, Kate. While Briggs proceeds cautiously, fentanyl is killing more people every day, and from what Colby told us, it stands to get worse before it gets better."

"Maybe not, Castle. Narcotics is rounding up as many dealers as it can, in part based on what Colby told us, and we passed on to Ryan. That's getting a lot of drugs off the street. When Briggs is ready, he'll get his blockbuster indictment, and Colby will get his blockbuster scoop."

"So Detective Beckett, the Chelsea Meadows case is closed, and the campaign to take down Susan Collinwood is in process. What are you going to do with your new found freedom?"

"Not that much freedom, Castle. I still have to be at the precinct during working hours. Another body could drop at any time. But with any luck, I should be able to make it home by a decent hour."

"And by home you mean?"

"The loft, Castle."

Castle pulls Kate into a nearby elevator. As the doors close, he wraps her in his arms for a kiss that lasts until the doors open on the lobby of the building.

* * *

It would have been great to have an evening alone with Kate. Unfortunately, Alexis has Paige over so the two of them can study for a history test and it's a dark night for Mother's play. Castle gives some thought to suggesting that he and Kate go to her apartment, but he doesn't want to sabotage the definition she gave him earlier in the day. He'll just have to do the best he can.

The roast in the oven is filling the air with a savory aroma. A dinner of red meat often adds to both Kate's enthusiasm, and Castle's stamina. Alexis usually turns in by ten before an exam, and if Mother doesn't have a liaison on her nights off, she usually spends them either meditating or going through the reviews of the competition. Her archrival Madge just opened in a new play. That should give Martha Rodgers plenty of theatrical commentaries to peruse - at least enough to keep her out of his hair.

Coming in the door, Kate looks too beautiful for someone who's just braved the subway after a day at work. Her hair is askew just enough to be sexy and her cheeks slightly reddened from the cold air outside. The tint of her hazel eyes is more green than brown, a promising sign.

With two hungry teenage girls at the table, large portions of tender beef, along with mashed potatoes and salad disappear in record time, followed by a substantial part of a half-gallon of chocolate ice cream.

After the dishwasher is loaded, Kate and Castle settle together on the couch in front of the TV. "We're past sweeps," Castle notes. "There isn't going to be much good on tonight, at least not first run. Do you want to watch a movie? Some recent ones are streaming."

Kate pushes her hair behind her ear and presses her index finger to her lips. "Actually, Castle, I hope you don't mind, but I set the DVR to record some stuff."

Castle pulls back to look at her. "Why would I mind? And what did the brilliant Kate Beckett feel was worthy of preserving for later viewing?"

Kate's eyes dart away from Castle's expectant gaze. " _Temptation Lane_."

" _Temptation Lane_ the soap opera?"

Kate nods sheepishly.

Castle cradles her cheek in his palm. "I'm not throwing any stones. I've been known to follow daytime television on occasion myself. I borrowed a plot for one of my novels from _General Hospital_. It was terrible, and I threw the damn thing out, but I did it. And I've always had a soft spot for _One Life to Live_."

"Yeah, one of the guys who played Joey Buchanan on there was pretty cute," Kate recalls. "But Mom and I used to watch _Temptation Lane_ together whenever I was home sick. She'd switch off with Dad. I'd watch baseball with him. So now I get the warm fuzzies when I watch either one."

Castle pulls her against his shoulder and presses his lips to her hair. "I understand. _Temptation Lane_ it is. I may even take some notes. Then later we can have some temptations of our own.

Kate snuggles into the warmth of his body. "Best part of the night."


	32. Chapter 32

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 32

"Beckett, can I see you for a minute?" Montgomery calls from his office. "Close the door," he orders as Kate comes in.

"What's going on, Sir?"

"Kate, you're my best homicide detective. Maybe the best one in the city. Your closure rate is the highest, especially since you started working with Castle."

"Thank you, Sir, but…"

"As good as you are, you should have some standing to go with it, besides seniority over your partners. The sergeants' exam is coming up. You should take it. If you get your stripes, you'll be in charge of the bullpen, not just Ryan and Esposito."

"Sir, I like working on the street."

"And you'd keep doing it, you'd just have more resources at your fingertips. You'd make a bigger paycheck too. I've shopped enough with Evelyn to know those coats of yours can run into money."

"Sir, if I may ask, what brought this on?"

"To be honest, Kate, I've been considering retiring." Montgomery raises a hand. "Yeah, I know, I've said it before. But I have more than my 30 in, and I'd like to be able to spend more time with Evelyn and the kids. They're growing up so fast; I barely recognize them from week to week. And handling everything with them isn't easy on Evelyn either. Look, the lieutenant in Robbery does a good job. If anything he's better with paperwork than I am. He may move up, or 1PP might decide to bring in someone from outside, but whatever happens, I want to know that I'll be leaving my detectives in good hands. Think about it."

Kate runs her fingers through her hair. "Yes, Sir. I will."

* * *

"The sergeants' exam," Castle repeats. "Kate, that would be so cool! All of the bullpen in your capable hands."

"I don't know, Babe. There'd be even more paperwork. And some of the detectives, like Bruce, are older than I am. I'm not sure I'd feel right bossing them around."

"I'm older than you are, and you boss me around all the time. You're very good at it."

"Castle, that's different. You're a civilian. Those guys are experienced cops."

"How long do you have before you need to decide?"

"A couple of weeks."

"Briggs may not even have brought the case against Susan Collinwood by then. You could have a lot to think about. Anything I can do to help?"

"Just listening helps, Castle. But for now, I could use something to get my mind off it. I didn't see Alexis' or Martha's coat in the closet."

"Excellent detecting skills, as usual. Alexis is at a sleepover, something about doing hair and painting toenails. I'm not sure I want to know the details. And Mother had a date for an early supper before her performance, and I suspect there may be enjoyments of a different sort afterward. I'd really rather not picture that. In any case, we have the place to ourselves, to do with as we wish. What's your pleasure? Books? Movies? Laser tag? Or something more personal?"

Kate cups the most intimate part of him. "Definitely, the latter."

Castle pulls back the purple bedspread that's migrated from Kate's apartment. The sheets underneath are his, but he inhales the scent of Kate that clings to them, as Kate lights strawberry and vanilla candles. In the gentle glow, the couple leisurely undresses each other, savoring the feel of fabric sliding from skin. Kate slips between the sheets first, her outstretched arms silently beckoning Castle to join her.

His hands languidly trace the curves of her body, leaving a tingling trail of sensation behind them. Kate pushes against him, sparking his growing heat. Their lips meet, first gently, but with growing urgency as tongues seek and embrace their mates. Kate wraps around him, grinding against his turgid arousal. His thumbs find the surging tips of her breasts caressing them to even stiffer attention.

Kate's hips gyrate with increasing wildness, her steamy cleft inviting him into her inner reaches. Her fingers curl around his hardness guiding him within. He enters slowly, but the press of her legs against the firm muscle of his back forces him deeper.

They move in sync, ever more rapidly, sheets pulling loose from carefully crafted corners and dampening in sweat. The colorful bedcovering finds a new resting place on the floor. Springs groan beneath them as they tumble over and over, grappling for more complete contact.

Kate feels it first, the magical change that tells her their path to the summit will end in a violent plunge into oblivion. Her inner muscles contract, dragging Castle close to the fulfillment that is overtaking her. She can feel his explosion within her tightening sheath, driving her over the edge.

They cling tightly to each other as the mantle of madness retreats into the envelopment of love, and sleep holds them in its grasp.

* * *

Castle awakes to the stimulating aroma of coffee and an empty place beside him. "Kate?"

She appears in the doorway dressed only in the shirt she'd removed from his body hours before, carrying two mugs. "I made the coffee. I used your trick of grating a little dark chocolate into the grounds."

Castle reaches for one of the fragrant cups and takes a sip. "It's wonderful. What time is it?"

"Five. I don't have to be at the precinct for three hours."

Castle grins at her. "However will we pass the time?"

Kate trails her fingertips down his bare chest. "I'm sure we'll find a way."

* * *

Susan Collinwood is certain that something is wrong. No one thing has happened, but she can feel vibrations when she talks to some of her contacts in New York. It was bad enough that Joshua turned her down cold, but she has a feeling that something worse is on the horizon. She doesn't know what, but it seems to be coming out of the Big Apple.

There has been a roundup of many of her lower ranking dealers, but that has happened before. Whenever the city officials want to show the voters how devoted they are to the protection of the citizenry; a dragnet goes out. Clem can always replace the lost outlets, the way Simmons did. The world is full of people looking to make a fast buck and not caring how they do it. But what's been going on is more than a periodic crackdown. The chatter that usually reaches her has virtually stopped.

She's not sure if she should make a trip to New York to check up on operations or remain in DC and keep her head down. She hasn't got much reason to stay. No critical votes or committee meetings are on her schedule the immediate future. She could go meet with her constituents in Maine for an airing of their grievances, most of which she can't do anything about and is not inclined to address even when she can.

But if she travels anywhere, it will be to Weldon's territory, where she can touch base with her organization and put out more direct feelers. She just needs a plausible excuse. She brings up a calendar of city events on her computer. Ah, there's a conference addressing the growing difficulties of the seafood industry. That's a gathering a senator from Maine should proudly attend. She'll stick her head into a few sessions and grab a few photo ops - then she can take care of her real business.


	33. Chapter 33

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 33

Briggs looks up from the brief he's editing to see Lynn Neuwirth standing in front of his desk. "Something happen with the Collinwood case?"

"The investigation is just about wrapped up. Everything Beckett and Castle passed on from Bracken, as well as their corroborating evidence, has proved out. And Sir, Collinwood is scheduled to be in town today, at a conference at the Marriott, the one that overlooks Strawberry Field. Do you want me to field a team to pick her up?"

"Just double check that everything we have is a lock first."

"Yes, Sir."

"And Neuwirth, there's bound to be press around. Collinwood would never miss an opportunity for a photo op. So make sure our people are on their best behavior. We don't want to face any challenges on technicalities."

"Yes, Sir. I'll take care of it."

* * *

Kate's face glows as she listens to the call on her desk phone. "Castle, Collinwood is in New York, and the D.A. has a warrant for her arrest. We're going to be taking her in."

Castle springs out of the chair next to Kate's desk, clapping his hands. "Outstanding! Do I get to go along?"

"We're playing this by every chapter and verse in the book. I can take you to the scene with me, but you're going to have to stay back while we collar her."

"Hell, Kate! I'll watch through binoculars if I have to, but I want to see you snap the cuffs on her. Ooh, and maybe shackles too."

"I think the cuffs will do. The shaking hands and trembling voice make her look pitiful enough. We don't want her to appear any more sympathetic in front of whatever cameras that might be there. You know she's going to fight this."

"I'm sure she will, Kate. But Briggs was determined to have her dead to rights - and we've got Colby to counter any story she might con some members of the Fourth Estate into believing."

Kate's eyes flash with mischief. "Right, Jameson Rook, just when we need him the most.

* * *

Castle finds Susan Collinwood's arrest almost disappointingly uneventful. Kate and four other officers approach their quarry in the hotel lobby where she's talking with executives from two seafood companies, a writer for a trade magazine and a reporter for the business section of The Ledger. Other than declaring that she's a senator and that her arrest is a terrible mistake, Susan is taken in without a struggle. Kate doesn't even cuff her until they are outside the hotel and out of the view of what press there is. Still, seeing a large N.Y.P.D hand pressing on the top of Collinwood's head while she is loaded into the back of a marked unit is extremely satisfying. And the light in Kate's eyes says it all. The plug to the remaining juice behind Bracken's operation is being pulled, and they can smugly observe Collinwood's arraignment together, whenever Briggs is ready to make his triumphant entrance into court.

* * *

While Kate slices tomatoes and mini-cucumbers and he tears lettuce for a salad for their celebratory dinner, Castle decides that it's as good a time as any to broach the subject he's been silent about ever since she brought it up. "Now that Susan Collinwood is ensconced in the unloving arms of the Department of Corrections, have you come to any decision about the sergeants' exam?"

Kate lays her knife on the cutting board. "I'm going to take it."

"Even if being a sergeant will mean more paperwork?"

"Even with that. Castle, Montgomery's been supportive and sometimes even fun. He hasn't interfered too much in our cases, and he's helped our investigations along when he could. I don't know what my next boss will be like, but I do know that I don't want to lose any control."

"From control freak Kate Beckett, that's hardly a newsflash."

Kate looks down and plays with the handle of her knife. "I know I've behaved that way Castle it's just that…"

"Since your mother was killed, you don't want anything else to slip away from you. And taking the sergeants' exam will help ensure that it won't."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well, you know I'll be pulling for you all the way, but there's something I couldn't bear to lose either."

"What, Babe?'

Castle wipes his hands on a towel. "I'll be right back." Quickly striding to his office, he pulls back the painting on the wall behind his desk to reveal a safe. With unsteady fingers, he punches in the combination and withdraws a tiny box sheathed in Tiffany blue. He had pictured a more romantic setting than the kitchen, but the time is right.

With his fingers curled tightly around the ring, Castle falls to one knee in front of Kate. "Katherine Houghton Beckett, the thing I could never bear to lose is my relationship with you; waking up beside you, building theory with you and making our home together. Will you marry me?"

Kate's eyes widen as her jaw drops. "Babe, I had no idea you were thinking…"

"The question is, what were you thinking? When you talked about your mother's wedding dress and told me how your parents worked together to take care of you, I believe I saw something in your face. I thought you might want a partner for more than crime-busting and rolling between the sheets. I'm offering you a partnership in life, Kate, if you'll have it - if you'll have me."

"You were right, Castle. When my father told me about my mother's dress, I remembered the life the two of them had together. With the shadow that was hanging over us, I pushed that vision away. But now that shadow is gone, and I want the kind of love that my parents had. And I want it with you, Rick. Yes, Richard Castle, I will marry you."

Castle slides the ring on her finger, but the buzzer on the oven goes off just as their lips meet. He smiles wryly. "I guess this is starting to be like married life already."

* * *

Martha examines the large diamond encircled by amethysts in Kate's ring. "Quite a rock, but then Richard has always believed in going big." She glances back at Castle. "Does Alexis know yet?"

He shakes his head, "She said she was going to take Owen out for burgers and sundaes to celebrate his birthday, and that she'd be back by nine. We'll tell her then."

"Just do it right away, Richard," Martha advises. "You don't want her discovering that her father is getting married again on her own. You remember what happened with Gina."

"A month of one-word sentences, slammed doors, and silent suppers. My little girl likes to stay informed."

"Not such a little girl anymore, Richard, or she wouldn't be plying her young man with ice cream. You involve her, she'll be behind you all the way, but if she thinks she's being left out, you'll be hitting a brick wall."

"And how about you, Mother? Are you behind us all the way?"

"Richard, if you're happy I'm happy." Martha shifts her gaze back to Kate. "And Katherine, dear, somehow I think my son has finally found the right woman. I believe this just may work."

Castle wraps an arm around each of them. "I love you both."

Martha winks. "Right back at you, kiddo. And now, Katherine, just what kind of wedding will fill your heart with joy? There are some wonderful magazines you can turn to for ideas, and I know a set designer whose visions are pure perfection."

Castle had forgotten this part. He and Kate will have to hunker down until Hurricane Martha blows herself down to a tropical depression.


	34. Chapter 34

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 34

Castle checks out the story on the front page of The Sunday Ledger. "Looks like Susan Collinwood has an army of lawyers, Dershbaum, Boem, Baile, and Avenatto."

Kate takes a sip of her coffee. "Briggs expected that, Castle. Did they print her sob story?"

"In spades. The valiant woman, the fisherman's daughter - I notice she didn't mention lobster - who worked herself up despite physical disability to be a faithful public servant and environmental warrior. She claims she only knew Bracken in a professional capacity. Huh! Professional criminal and murderer!"

"Talk about polluting a jury pool - if she goes to trial. Chances are she won't. Briggs has enough to destroy her, and her band of high-flying attorneys has to know that. But on the other side, has Colby's piece come out yet?"

"Hmm. His spreads are big and syndicated. It might be in Metro or maybe the magazine." Castle flips through the sections. "Here it is! A full-color magazine cover with Bracken and Collinwood smiling at each other during a colloquy on the Senate floor. They sure look cozy. This will have a much bigger circulation than The Ledger. It will be an insert in papers all across the country." He scans through the feature. "Everything is here, Collinwood's complete history with Bracken - except for Joshua Pelletier. Good Man. Joshua doesn't deserve to have his name, or his work dragged through the mud."

"No, he doesn't," Kate agrees. "How about the drug operation?"

"Looks like Colby put in as much as he could. Briggs is probably holding onto a lot of the details either for trial or for any deal he needs to present to a judge. There's a sidebar here about the fentanyl crisis, though. It's quite comprehensive and compelling. I don't think that if Susan brought Clarence Darrow back from the dead, she'd be able to get out of the hole she's dug for herself, and Colby did a great job shoveling the dirt in on top of her."

"Jameson Rook strikes again."

Castle shakes his head. "Colby didn't need any embellishment from me." He leans across the table for a coffee flavored kiss.

Kate gazes down at her ring. "Alexis seemed to take your announcement of our engagement well."

"Mother was right. As long as she's in the loop, Alexis is on board. Honestly, I think she's looking forward to me being totally outnumbered - not to mention outgunned - again. But aside from being very patient with Mother's dissertation of her cinematic visions for the ceremony, you didn't say much about what sort of wedding you have in mind. Your mother's dress is a given, but what else? Invite the whole precinct? Confine it to the City Clerk's office? Or something in between? Personally, I've always thought a wedding in space would be cool, but it will be a few years before commercial space flight starts taking reservations. What do you think of the Goodyear blimp?"

"That it should stick to hovering over football games. Castle, I want to walk down the aisle on my father's arm. I want the people I know and love around me. I'd love to be surrounded by the scent of fresh flowers and to celebrate with my guests with good food and great music. But I don't want to be the highlight of Page Six. Can we go for just big enough for that?"

"We may have to seriously restrain Mother, but I think Alexis can help us out with that. She's a champ at creating interesting challenges and distractions. The wedding you want is the wedding you will have, but we'll need to figure out a date. When is the sergeants' exam and are you going to bury yourself in N.Y.P.D. trivia to study for it?"

"It's in two months. No internment in trivia, but there is a course I should attend, so we might want to give ourselves time beyond that for wedding planning. I think June is out. Everyone gets married then, and everything is probably already booked. July and August are when Lanie and the boys usually take their vacations."

"And Mother sometimes picks up summer stock," Castle adds.

"Right. So September?"

"Other than hating to wait that long for you to be my wife, sounds good to me. Hey! Isn't Gloria Meadows a wedding planner? The sadly late daughter was good, the mother probably is too."

"You're right, Castle. Having a professional handle the annoying details would make things a lot easier, especially if you and I are busy working on cases together. We should at least talk to her and see what kind of ideas she has. And in a way, it would be a fitting memorial to Chelsea."

Castle leans in for another kiss. "You're pretty amazing; you know that?"

"You'll be amazing too if you pass me the last cronut."

Castle gazes longingly at the lone pastry before handing the almost empty bakery box to Kate. "For my bride-to-be, the last crumb in my larder."

* * *

Briggs settles into his chair beside Lynn Neuwirth across a conference table from Susan Collinwood's counsels for the defense. "I see you haven't given up on representing sleaze, Avenatto. Run out of highly placed madams?"

"All of whom were more honorable than their clients who pounded their bibles by day and bedded her employees by night. No Briggs, I'm here because I understand the nexus between criminality and politics and stand the best chance of helping our client navigate around the tripwires and beartraps you'll throw in her path to a decent deal. She has a lot to trade, and I'm going to make sure she gets credit for every bit of it."

Briggs snorts and while Lynn rolls her eyes. "What? Did Collinwood let you sample her merchandise? You're dreaming Avenatto. We have Bracken. We've rounded up most of Collinwood's dealers. And don't forget we have your client cold on two old homicides. No statute of limitations on those. What could she possibly have to mitigate what should send her to prison for the next few centuries?"

"A road map to every corrupt official in New York. And we both know, that as hard as Weldon struggles against it, there are hands out in every department in this city. Susan's been right in the middle of cultivating them for years. She can help you clean up your town, Briggs. You won't just be a crusading D.A.; you'll be a superhero. Your possibilities statewide and even nationally will be limitless."

"And what does your client want for this miracle?" Briggs inquires.

"You drop the homicide and drug charges, get the DEA to drop the federal investigation and put my client into WITSEC."

Briggs guffaws and slaps his palm against the surface of the table. "I'll admit you have _chutzpah_ , Avenatto, but I guess you didn't see the magazine section of the Sunday paper. You really should employ a clipping service or revamp your Google alerts. The whole freaking country knows what and who Susan Collinwood is. WITSEC couldn't hide her if they tried.

"What's more, every family who's suffered a loss from the travesty she's been inflicting on society is screaming for her blood. They'd be out for mine if I didn't give them their pound of flesh. She might buy herself a few comforts while she lives out the rest of her life behind bars, but that's the best you can wrangle, and she should count herself lucky if she can get those. Weldon's launching a task force on corruption and he's enlisted some of the city's best and brightest. Whatever your client knows will soon be yesterday's news - so whatever she's got to say, she'd better make it quick."

Briggs rises from the table and motions Lynn to follow him out of the room. "Gentlemen, I would bid you good day, except that I doubt that you'll have one."


	35. Chapter 35

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 35

"Well, what did you get?" Castle demands as Kate reads the email displayed on her desk computer.

"Highest score. I'm first on the list. Almost perfect grade."

"Almost? I can't believe you missed something."

"I think it was the question about the difference between an S-7 and S-8. I mixed those up when Alexis was quizzing me. It won't matter. Those are robbery forms, and I'll be staying in homicide. Montgomery is going to make sure the paperwork goes through before he files for his pension."

"Good to know, but I still can't get used to the idea that there will be another boss around here. Roy and I understand each other."

"Of course you do. You're poker buddies. You know each other's tells. You're both overprotective parents, and you like the same brands of beer and scotch. For men, that must be quite a bond."

"And we're both rather fond of you," Castle adds. "I was thinking…"

Kate's landline rings and she grabs a pen to start writing. "What happened?" Castle asks as she replaces the receiver in its cradle.

"The head of Weldon's new corruption task force, Peter Whitestone, was just found dead in his office, COD unknown."

"Could it have been a heart attack or something?"

"Maybe. That's up to Lanie to determine. But he was thirty-seven years old, Castle. Uniforms are securing the scene. Until we know otherwise, it's going to be treated as a homicide and Weldon twisted the chief's arm to make me the primary on the case."

* * *

Lanie looks up from making notes on a tablet as Kate and Castle enter Whitestone's office. "I don't have an answer for you, Kate, but I can tell you what I've observed so far. There are none of the classic signs of a heart attack or a stroke — no blunt trauma. There are no stab or bullet wounds. When I get the body back to the lab, I'll be checking for punctures. You've been in this long enough to know those can be anywhere and they're not always easy to find."

"How about poison?" Castle queries.

"It's a possibility. We can rule out cyanide. That would share some signs with a heart attack."

"Which leaves an encyclopedia's worth of others," Castle interjects.

Lanie sighs. "Yes it does, Castle. But I'll have to do bloodwork and check the stomach contents to look for them. I'll also have to examine his organs. Kate, I should have something by tomorrow, maybe sooner if we get lucky. But as soon as you've retrieved Mr. Whitestone's effects, I'll need to get him out of here."

"I'll try to be quick, Lanie," Kate promises.

Castle stares at the body. "Hmm. His belt is on the wrong hole. It would be too loose. Could someone have removed his pants and replaced them?"

Kate snaps a picture. "Good catch, Babe. Lanie, would there be a reason for a murderer to do that?"

"As I said, Kate. I can let you know after I've done a full examination of the body."

Kate digs into Whitestone's pockets. "Phone, Tech will have to examine this. It's official issue so there will be a backdoor. They'll check his computer too. Wallet, there might be something in here. No. Just license, credit cards, and $24 in cash. Keys. Change. That's it."

"No clues to a killer scrawled on a ragged scrap of paper?" Castle wonders hopefully."

Kate looks up. "Sorry, and no mysterious flash drives either. Looks like this one is going to require straight-up police work - unless it does turn out to be a death by natural causes."

"A natural cause that pulls off a man's pants," Castle ponders, "that would be a whole new chapter in medical history. Ooh! Unless… Lanie, he couldn't have been brought to his last moments by extreme ecstasy - and not the drug kind?"

Lanie exchanges looks with Kate. "Castle, unfortunately for Mr. Whitestone, that's unlikely, but I'll let Kate know what I find."

* * *

"So, Beckett," Esposito inquires as he shares the contents of take-out containers of Chinese food with Kate, Castle, and Ryan, "how soon before you start cracking the whip on the rest of the bullpen?"

Kate strips the last of the succulent flesh from a sparerib. "Montgomery isn't sure. It could be a couple of days, or it might be a week or more. But things shouldn't change a lot. We'll still be going out on cases together. It's just that you guys won't be able to cover for each other as much anymore because I know all your little tricks." A text dings on Kate's phone. "That's Lanie. She's finished the autopsy on Peter Whitestone. Come on, Castle."

Castle hurriedly uses his chopsticks to pick up a morsel from his plate. "Last nut from the cashew chicken and I'm right behind you."

* * *

"You were right about the pants but not about any ecstatic last moments, Castle," Lanie explains pointing to the exposed thigh of Whitestone's prone body. "Someone injected air into his great saphenous vein. He died of a massive embolism."

"How would they manage that without him fighting back?" Kate asks.

"There was flurazepam hydrochloride in his blood, and CSU found traces of it in his coffee cup. Someone put him out, then killed him. It all would have been very quiet. If his office door were closed, no one would have known it was happening. From the liver temperature, he was dead for a couple of hours before the body was discovered. He was probably gulping down coffee because he came into work early. There was a lot of caffeine in his system too."

Castle raises an eyebrow at Kate. "Sounds familiar."

"Lanie," Kate queries, "was there any food in his stomach?"

Lanie shakes her head. "Not a thing except a lot of coffee."

Kate nods. "So he was in a hurry to get something done. Maybe he found new evidence on one of the city officials. We need the report from Tech, to see what he was working on. Thanks, Lanie."

"Back to the precinct?" Castle asks as Kate starts the car.

"No. We need to go see Whitestone's partner. Until Lanie did her tests, we couldn't say anything about a homicide, but now I'll have to break the news and ask some questions."

* * *

Bradley Stuart swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. "We were going to get married, go to Vermont. It probably will be legal in New York soon, but we didn't want to wait that long. Peter just wanted to finish putting together some evidence first. He said a high official was taking bribes, but he didn't tell me which one. He was supposed to be tying the final strands together the morning that he died. Do you think whomever he was after, killed him?"

"We don't know yet," Kate answers gently. "Can you think of anyone else who might want to hurt him?"

"Maybe his ex, Tony Lister. They had a hard breakup. It was over a year ago, and he kept calling Peter. Sometimes he'd scream at him. I could hear it without the speaker being on. But he hasn't called lately. Maybe he finally gave up on Peter and found someone new."

"We'll check him out," Kate promises. "Again, I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Two of the classic motives for murder," Castle observes as he and Kate walk down the stairs from Bradley's apartment, "love or to cover up a crime. Which one do you think it is?"

Kate shrugs. "I don't know Castle, but we will figure it out."

A/N Same-sex marriage wasn't legalized in N.Y. until 2011, and this story would have taken place in 2010. It was already legal in Vermont. Happy New Year and thank you for hanging with me. :)


	36. Chapter 36

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 36

"Castle, just before I got the call about Peter Whitestone, you said you were thinking something," Kate recalls. "What was on your mind?

"I was wondering if we might have a double celebration, for your ascendancy and Montgomery's retirement. We could put all the food in the break room and have the party right here in the bullpen. A few streamers and balloons would spruce the place up a bit. I could order a cake, or maybe two cakes, enough for everyone at the precinct to get a piece. Ooh, I could rent a karaoke machine too. Espo's been determined to redeem himself ever since his debacle at the Christmas party."

"Sounds like fun Castle - except I'm not too sure about the karaoke part. Karpowski was visiting her folks in Cleveland during the holidays, but I've heard her sing when she takes a shower after a workout. Her voice bounces off the tile. It's a wonder it doesn't crack."

Castle winces. "That bad, huh? OK, no karaoke. I can get a sax player, maybe a trio. Roy's as much of a jazz fan as you are. The revelers can enjoy the music without being tempted to sing along."

"Sounds good, Babe." Kate turns to the screen of her computer as an email alert sounds. "The report is in from Tech. They sent a list of the calls Whitestone made and copies of his files. It's a lot to go through. And I need to dig up whatever I can on Lister, too."

"Tell you what, I know the city official crowd pretty well from hanging out with Weldon. I can go through the stuff from Tech if you want to look into Lister. Then we can compare notes over lunch. There's a new place that just opened up - Evil Deliveries. The menu is everything the hosts on the lifestyle talk shows warn you against like fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and big fluffy biscuits. They even make old-fashioned malted milkshakes."

Kate rounds her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Strawberry?"

"Vanilla, chocolate and your favorite scarlet fruit - the full Neapolitan array."

"Sold, Babe. Can you arrange for the food to arrive around one o'clock?"

"Consider it done."

* * *

Castle re-examines the list of calls on Peter Whitestone's phone. Predictably, there are some to Brad and several city departments. He is surprised to find a call to Tony Lister, the day before Peter was murdered. It lasted about 20 minutes, much too long for what he'd expect of a discussion with an angry ex.

Several of the calls coordinate with the contents of files from Whitestone's computer, including a lengthy incoming one, from the zoning department. It originates from the main number, preventing Castle from identifying a particular caller or an extension. He's sure Kate will want to check it out. He's spreading out the newly delivered food on the conference table in a way least likely to make a mess of his paperwork when Kate comes into the room. "Any luck with Lister?"

"Not much. He doesn't have a rap sheet. There are no restraining orders against him either, not what I'd expect from what Bradley Stuart told us about the harassment Peter was receiving. You'd think some previous victim would have been scared enough to go to court. Lister's had the same job for five years as the healthcare administrator for several group homes. Other than the usual bureaucratic glitches, there have been no complaints about him that I could find. The picture doesn't fit with what Stuart said."

"Present mates have been known to diss their predecessors, Kate."

"Castle, I've never said a word against Gina, except to pass on her threats about staking you to an anthill. And I found Meredith - helpful."

"Helpful in giving you a way to torture me, you mean. And I haven't forgotten your promise about never calling me 'Kitten.' No, I was talking about how Gina used to put down Meredith's work. Alexis' mother may be flighty and self-absorbed, but she is a competent actress - despite how Mother may complain about her lack of respect for the craft. She elevated one of the sitcoms she was in to at least make it watchable. Meredith probably kept it running for an extra season. And she did some decent work in an indie film too. I think that Gina put her down to try to make her own position seem more secure. Obviously, it didn't work, but Stuart may have been pursuing a similar strategy. What you told me about Lister jibes with what I found in Whitestone's phone records. I don't think the two of them were on bad terms at all."

Kate begins to back away from the table. "We really should go see Lister."

Castle holds out a piece of crisp chicken and uses his other hand to waft the savory scent toward Kate. "Can it wait half an hour?"

Kate pulls the tempting meat from his grasp and sinks her teeth into it. "Absolutely."

* * *

Tony Lister rises from behind a desk piled with documents to extend his hand to Kate and Castle. "To be honest, I've expected a visit from the police ever since I heard about Peter's death. I may have been one of the last people to talk to him."

"What did you talk about?" Kate asks.

"Some general catching up, and he said he had uncovered something big at work, but he couldn't tell me any details, yet. He wanted to get together for coffee soon, to talk more."

"So the two of you were friendly?" Castle inquires.

"We were," Tony confirms. "We used to be - together. We drifted apart, but we still cared about each other. We just wanted different things. I wanted a family. I know of many kids who are virtually unadoptable because of the severity of their disabilities. I want to become a father to one of them someday. Peter couldn't see himself being part of that. He was way too immersed in his work. And there were a lot of little things we couldn't agree on, like the way we take our coffee. I like it spiced and slightly sweet. He drank his black and strong enough to take the paint off a car. At least Brad could help him with that. He used to make Peter a big thermos of the stuff to take to work in the morning. Peter said he wouldn't have been able to get going without it." Moisture glints in Tony's eyes. "I guess he'll never need that kind of a boost again." A tear forms on one of Tony's lashes.

Kate pulls one of her cards out of her pocket and hands it to the increasingly distraught man. "Mr. Lister, I'm very sorry for your loss. If you think of anything, anything at all that you believe might be helpful, give me a call, day or night."

Tony just nods as Kate and Castle leave his office. Castle waits until the elevator doors close before the words explode from his mouth. "Kate, Bradley Stuart had to be the one who doped Whitestone's coffee. He has to be our murderer!"

Kate shakes her head. "It looks that way, Castle, but what would be his motive? We have a lot more to investigate before we can jump to any conclusions. If Whitestone was about to close in on someone, we need to know who it was. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and we'll probably be needing more than a little coffee ourselves."

"Fine, but no thermoses. I'll make it fresh."


	37. Chapter 37

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 37

The tedium is beginning to get to Castle as Kate questions one employee of the zoning department after another, trying to figure out who called Peter Whitestone. Neither one of them is looking so much for honest answers as they are for clues in body language. The problem is that almost everyone that Kate quizzes seems nervous, with one tell or another that they might be giving less than straight answers.

The next candidate is Ellie Spencer, not strictly speaking a member of the department staff, but rather a temp pulled in to cover for the director's assistant who's in rehab after suffering a broken hip when she was thrown to the floor by the sudden stop of a subway train.

Ellie seems even more nervous than the others but is not showing any of the classic signs of lying. Unlike any of the staff members who've previously come into the small room that Kate appropriated as a makeshift box, Ellie double-checked that the door closed tightly behind her and she couldn't hear anything through it.

The jumpy woman leans forward in her seat across from Kate and Castle, speaking in a whisper. "If you're looking for the person who called Peter Whitestone before he died, it was me. From the day I was assigned to fill in here, I felt that something wasn't right, but I couldn't pin it down.

"My dad was a contractor until he got stiffed by a developer so many times that he was driven out of business. I know how zoning is supposed to work. And I know what goes on in city offices too. I've worked in a lot of them. This one is different, wary.

"Sometimes people will stop talking when I come into the room, and someone is always intercepting paperwork before I get it. Some of the reports look like they've been changed and then copied to cover it up. And one of the managers, Spaulding Madison, showed up with a Giraldi briefcase. I noticed because I wanted to get one for my husband when he earned a promotion, but I would have had to save up for a year. It's not something a city employee could generally afford.

"And a lot of the new permits have been going to just a few real estate companies. I checked, and there is no reason that should be happening. Those firms have the worst violations. If anything, they should be the last to receive permits. I'm pretty sure that at least Mr. Madison is on the take and that there might be others in it with him. So I called Peter Whitestone. He told me that he already suspected corruption here and had been gathering evidence. He said I should just keep my head down and my eyes open and he'd have everything he needed to prove his case put together soon. And then he was dead. Could someone from here have had anything to do with his death?"

Kate chews her lip. "We don't know. It's possible, and if someone here did find out that Whitestone was closing in, whoever did kill him, might come after you as well. Can you get reassigned or take off a few days? We can put security on you, but if we do that here, you'll be exposed."

"I was going to take some vacation anyway and go see my sister for a couple of weeks. She lives in South Carolina, and it's beautiful there this time of year."

Kate nods. "That should be perfect. We can alert the locals to look out for you." Kate hands her a card. "Email me with the details of your trip, and we'll stay in touch."

* * *

"Wow, Kate," Castle wonders as she makes the drive back to the precinct. "Do you really think the killer might go after Ellie?"

Kate takes a turn more sharply than necessary. "Probably not, but I don't want to take the chance, Castle. We still don't know who the killer is. So far, we just have pieces of the picture. We don't have a connection between the zoning department and Bradley Stuart. When we talked to Madison, he wasn't very forthcoming. That leaves us with a lot more digging to do. Are you up for that?"

"Kate, this is me. Putting together puzzles is as much a mystery writer's forte as it is a detective's. I would begin by looking at who Spaulding Madison's friends are."

"Babe, that's exactly what I was planning to do.

"I can start now," Castle suggests, pulling out his phone. "Just about every executive and especially wannabe big shots have Linked In pages - and there's always a network. Hmm," Castle mutters as Kate is pulling into a parking space at the precinct. "A lot of Madison's buddies are business contacts, as I would expect, but he has one from The Rainbow Door and another one from The Golden Walnuts."

"Aren't those gay clubs?"

"Specifically for members of the gay community looking to accelerate their careers. I know a couple of up and coming writers, good ones, who are patrons. Perhaps Bradley Stuart chose one of those venues to try to achieve his own upward trajectory."

"It shouldn't be hard to find out. I want to check in with the captain; then we can take another field trip."

* * *

"So someone in the zoning department is dirty," Montgomery repeats after Kate's update.

"Quite possibly more than one someone," Castle adds.

Montgomery shakes his head. "Sometimes I think there's enough dirt in this city to build a mountain, but at least Weldon is trying to do something about it."

"Looks like Peter Whitestone died trying to do something about it too," Castle notes grimly.

"Yeah. Well, good work so far you two. Beckett, looks like you and Castle have an excuse to go club hopping - although I suspect you won't exactly blend in."

Castle runs his hand through his perfectly styled hair and turns to Kate. "You've accused me of metrosexuality a time or two. I guess we'll see if a rhyme is good enough to gather some intelligence. And you could put on your leathers. I've been dying to see you in them anyway."

"All right, Castle. I doubt that it will make much difference, but if it fulfills your fantasy, we can stop by my old place, and I'll pick them up."

Castle grins. "Yes please."

* * *

Spaulding Madison isn't sure what to do. As far as he can tell, the police have nothing. The questions the detective asked him got her nowhere. There's nothing to link him to Brad. They called and texted on prepaid phones that are the bottom of the East River. And if Brad had spilled something, the cops would have done a lot more than ask Spaulding a few questions. He just needs to sit tight - or better still, do something to keep his mind off the cops. The crowd at the Golden Walnuts has been going downhill, but the Rainbow Door is still his kind of a place. They even have a new DJ who plays just the right mix of music. The appetizers are excellent too, and perfect for sharing. A night at the club is just what he needs. He picks up his Giraldi. He doesn't have much in it, only his comb, hair product, and his flask, but it always seems to make a good impression.


	38. Chapter 38

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 38

Castle is finding it difficult to keep his eyes on the crowd at the Golden Walnuts, rather than on Kate, but he can feel several pairs of eyes on him. He's both flattered and a little uncomfortable but tries to keep his mind on the task at hand. Kate is invited to join a table of women, and Castle takes a seat at the bar and orders a microbrew. He would prefer scotch, but he needs to stay alert.

A man slides onto the seat beside Castle, introduces himself as Mike, and asks if Castle would like to share a hummus platter, his treat. Castle's more partial to seven-layer dip, but he's eaten plenty of hummus at parties and didn't hate it. Striking up a conversation with Mike will be as good a way to gather information as any.

The raw vegetables provided for dipping are both clean and crisp, and the pita triangles are fresh. That's points for the kitchen staff if nothing else. "I haven't seen anyone like you in here for a while," Mike comments.

"What do you mean like me?" Castle inquires.

"Custom-made shirt and jacket, a hairstyle that emphasizes your eyes. My guess is that you're actually what some of the patrons around here are trying to be - someone who's made it."

Castle picks up a celery stick. "I do all right. Sounds like you see a lot of climbers."

"Would be climbers, anyway. There was this one who hasn't been here in a while. You would think he was the Queen of England. I think he works for the city. Was always putting his Giraldi up on the bar where everyone could see it. I got a look inside once when he was pulling out business cards: no papers, just his hair stuff. I think he's doing his act somewhere else right now. Anyway, I'm a paralegal, but I'm saving up to go to law school. What do you do?"

"I'm a consultant."

"That's usually what people say when they're between jobs, but you must be a good one. Any chance you could consult with me later, at my place?"

Castle inclines his head toward the table where Kate is sitting. "I'd love to, but I came with my sister. She crashed her Harley last month, and sometimes her head gets a little messed up. I have to make sure she gets home all right."

"Yeah, you always have to take care of family. I look in on my mother every day. Maybe I'll see you again."

Castle flashes his brightest smile. "Anything is possible."

"Get anything from the ladies?" Castle asks as he and Kate walk to the parking lot where she left her unit.

"An invitation to a bike rally, but nothing about Spaulding Madison. From the self-satisfied look on your face, I assume you were more successful."

"Madison did come here, but he hasn't been around for a while. I got the impression he wasn't too popular. But I suspect we might have more luck at the Rainbow Door. I hope they have good hot wings. I've had more than enough hummus."

* * *

The sheen of sweat on Castle's brow as he leans on the bar testifies to the level of spice in the savory chicken he's chosen to accompany his Virgin Mary. The club is both more expensive and more fashionable than the Golden Walnuts, and the patrons are better fixed. He's spotted a few that he believes might share either his hair stylist or his tailor. If Spaulding Madison is trying to build his image, this is a place he might come. Kate touches Castle on the shoulder. "I glimpsed Madison at a table in the back. We can't let him spot us. We should take a booth up front where we can watch the door, but he won't be able to see us."

Castle picks up his fiery basket and his glass. "Great! I can take notes on the customers. It will make excellent background for a scene I'm working on for my book."

"A gay bar, Castle?"

"I was thinking Raley might stumble into it by accident and Ochoa will have to pull him out. Obviously still a work in progress."

Castle is on his second basket of wings and his third Virgin Mary when Kate hisses for his attention. "Bradley Stuart!"

"And it looks like he's heading to the back where Spaulding Madison is," Castle notes. "He is, and if that kiss is anything to go by, they're not strangers."

* * *

Castle settles into bed next to Kate. "I don't think I want to look at tomato juice or another appetizer for a month. At least now, I don't have to pretend I'm not gazing at you. You looked incredible in your leathers, but there is no substitute for pure Beckett."

"You look pretty good yourself, Castle - a little flushed maybe. Too much hot sauce?"

Castle brushes the hair back from her face. "The heat I'm feeling now has nothing to do with condiments; it's all about you."

Kate lets her fingers do the walking. "Um, I could warm my hands around that."

"I think the member you are referring to would rather find a place for himself that is already warm."

Kate presses her lips to his. "Then I think you have some work to do to open the door."

He nibbles his way down the smooth skin of her neck. "A chore I would never dream of shirking."

"Good, because you have a lot to do on the way down."

Castle circles one pink tip with his tongue. "Like this?"

"It's a good start."

"And this?" he asks, laving the succulent bud's twin."

Kate runs her hands down his thighs. "Making progress."

His mouth finds her navel. "Here?"

"Close, but no cigar, Babe."

"Actually, I'm more interested in the cigar box." She jerks as he fingers the hardening center of her arousal. "Ah, the enchanted lock." Kate moans beneath his touch as he continues to massage her most sensitive spot. "Now what was that key again? Open rice? Open wheat? I know, open sesame."

Kate's legs part as she reaches for him. He slides almost too smoothly into her welcoming sheath. Her calves find his shoulders as she invites him to dive deeper.

He needs no urging as he plunges within and retreats, the sweat from their bodies forming a steamy mist around them as he thrusts. Only Kate's head and the upper reaches of her torso remain on the bed as she clings to Castle, tightening around him. The waves are upon her before she's aware that they've begun, and she can feel Castle's response deep inside her. She can hear his cry of release as the air is sucked from her lungs. Slowly, her legs slide from his body as he pulls back, only to enfold her once again in his embrace. He draws a sheet over them, the only covering needed by bodies still heated by the exertions of love. They rest, skin to skin, the night passing as if but a moment of time. The orange rays filtering through the window are a reminder if a sweet one, of a new day and the dangling threads of a case needing to be firmly tied up and neatly clipped.


	39. Chapter 39

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 39

"I don't know what I'm doing here," Spaulding Madison complains. "I already answered your questions."

Kate holds up her phone in front of Madison, closely enough that he is forced to look at the image on the screen. "That was before we caught you playing kissy-face with the late Peter Whitestone's fiancé. Poor, grief-stricken Bradley already had means and opportunity to murder his lover, and you've just given us his motive."

"So what? If Brad killed Whitestone because he fell for me, that's not my fault," Madison protests."

Kate rises from the table, her eyes boring into Madison's. "It is if he did it so that Whitestone wouldn't bust you for taking bribes from contractors to get permits. That's a very expensive briefcase you carry around, Spaulding."

"That suit would cost a city employee about a month's pay," Castle adds, "and the shoes at least a week's worth."

"We checked, Madison," Kate continues. "You have no inheritances or investment windfalls and no winning lottery tickets, yet your credit cards are paid off, and you live in an upscale condo. So where did the money come from?"

A shimmer of light reflects from the moisture appearing beneath the strands of the perfect coif brushed over Madison's forehead. "I want a lawyer."

"First smart thing you've said," Kate comments.

"What about Bradley Stuart?" Castle asks as Kate leaves Madison to sweat it out in the box.

"The boys have gone to pick him up. I wasn't about to take a chance that Madison would tip him off. We'll turn the heat up on him too, see which one flips first, but my money is on Madison. Jerks like him rarely think about anything except saving their own asses."

* * *

The moment the two detectives show up at his door, Bradley knows he's in trouble. When they inform him that he's under arrest for the murder of Peter Whitestone, he's not surprised. He'd known from the beginning that cheating on Peter with Spaulding was a mistake, but with Peter, everything was work. Half the time He didn't even remember to thank Bradley for making sure he got his caffeine for the day- and just the way he liked it. Bradley also ended up eating a lot of the special meals he prepared for the two of them, alone.

The attention Spaulding paid to Bradley was a salve to his ego, as his new lover kept intimating that he deserved better than the treatment he was getting from Peter. Sometimes he wondered if Spaulding was using him, but he always pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It hurt so much to mean so little to the man he truly loved, that he finally snapped. He should have left the city, gone somewhere, anywhere, but he couldn't desert Spaulding. His new lover is all he has left."

* * *

Bradley is hunched over his cuffed hands when Detective Beckett enters the room, followed by Richard Castle. He knows he doesn't have to say anything. The cops who arrested him made that clear. He hasn't asked for a lawyer, either. He's afraid of what might come spilling out if he opens his mouth. So he just sits, the flow of questions coming from across the table like a meaningless buzz in his ears."

* * *

Castle isn't surprised when he recognizes Madison's lawyer, Carl Purcell, as one of the many faces, he saw at The Rainbow Door. The man is even carrying a Giraldi, perhaps with more than his grooming aids inside. Kate leaves lawyer and client to confer in private, but they don't talk long before Purcell signals that he wants to make a deal. He's in for a nasty surprise. Given Weldon's high regard for Whitestone, he urged Briggs to become personally involved in handling the investigator's murder. Madison might be hoping for a light toasting, but he will find himself covered in grill marks.

* * *

Kate closed the case just in time. Castle put his head together with Evelyn to pull together a party as perfect as they could make it for both Kate and Montgomery. There will be two cakes. According to Evelyn, Roy likes raspberry tinged with brandy, while Castle is planning a checkerboard vanilla and chocolate with strawberry filling for Kate. If she loves it, it might be a preview for a more ornate pastry at their wedding reception.

Decorations will have to go up quickly while Montgomery leaves for his predictable afternoon coffee break and Castle distracts Kate. Ryan is taking charge of that. The caterer will be delivering the food at a precise time as well, with Karpowski overseeing the setup with an assist from gourmet cook, Bruce. Castle and Evelyn settled on barbecue, a mix of chicken, beef, and pork, with a vegan option featuring eggplant.

Castle puzzles about an appropriate way to keep Kate occupied. Suggesting a trip to the vendor at the corner for hotdogs is out. There will be more delectable treats to come. He settles on a walk, pleading that he can use the exercise and she'll look beautiful in the sunshine.

He was telling the truth about both halves of his argument. Recently, he's rarely had time to make it to the gym, either for yoga or his fencing regimen, and the new highlights in Kate's sexy mane catch the light like a halo. Amid her parade of ever-changing hairstyles, he hopes she decides to keep them. Added to that, once she assumes the sergeant's mantle, she may not have as much time for excursions outside the precinct, that aren't strictly work-related.

* * *

The day is the best of New York City spring: light sweater weather. Where trees survive surrounded by concrete, buds have already spread into leaves, and many of the insulated cups of coffee usually carried by pedestrians have been exchanged for bottles of water, sports drinks, or sodas.

Were it not for the upcoming festivities; Castle would offer to buy Kate an ice cream, if for no other reason than to watch her lick the sticky sweetness from her lips. Instead, he suggests a trip to the swings in a pocket park, unused while children labor over their schoolwork.

"So, now that your promotion is becoming a reality, how do you feel about it?" Castle queries as they gently swing side by side.

Kate shrugs. "To tell you the truth, Babe, I don't know. A lot will depend on the attitude of the new captain. I haven't heard anything official, but the rumor is that she's from Internal Affairs and a real hardass. Montgomery often stretched the rules more than a little. If she's strictly by the book, that may slow us down. I might even see some good cops who are used to operating with more freedom, put in for transfer. I'd hate that. We have a damn good bullpen."

"We do, Castle agrees. "So if that happens, how are you going to handle it?"

Kate pushes off with her feet, forcing her swing higher. "I have no idea, but Montgomery is trusting me with his people. I'm not about to let him down."

Castle reaches out to grab a chain, halting her motion. "I would never expect otherwise. So I guess we'll just have to go with whatever happens."

"And we have to go back to the precinct, don't we?" Kate asks, fluttering her eyelashes. "Party time?"

Castle's jaw drops. "How did you know it was today? I thought you weren't expecting it until next week. Never mind. You're Kate Beckett, ace detective. Just remember to act surprised when we return."

"Sure Babe, especially since you've probably planned an affair full of surprises anyway."

Castle grins. "Count on it."


	40. Chapter 40

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 40

The biggest surprise Castle has for Kate is a performance by the winner of a nationally televised talent show, who specializes in jazz standards. Backed up by a jazz trio, his music refreshes better than a trip to a spa. She loves the barbecue spread and the cake too. She has no idea where he found crepe paper streamers with police badges on them, but the occupants of the bullpen are enjoying them, as is Captain Montgomery.

Kate is going to miss her mentor, even if he did insist on thrusting Castle on her - maybe especially since he forced Rick on her. When sparks began flying between the two of them, she was ready to run as fast as she could in the other direction. Thank God - and Montgomery - that she couldn't.

The most encouraging thing about the gathering is the reaction of the other cops to her upcoming leadership. She hasn't always been sure what any of them, aside from Ryan and Esposito, think of her. But they seem relieved that she'll be there to provide some continuity when Montgomery is gone.

Evelyn has to be the happiest person at the party. For years, she's put up with Montgomery's late hours trying to make budgets add up and round the clock duty during times of high alert. Now she and the kids can finally have more time with him.

Kate will still see Montgomery. He'll be staying on as part of one of Castle's poker posses. And he'll most likely be expecting her to keep him updated on the happenings at the 12th Precinct. She couldn't blame him for that.

After taking a call near the end of the celebration, Montgomery motions Kate and Castle into his office. "Briggs reached a deal with Spaulding Madison. He's not only flipping on Bradley Stuart, but he has to elocute about everyone in the zoning department he involved in his extortion racket. It's a long list. There's going to be a purge. The director isn't implicated, but chances are that Weldon will kick him loose for being oblivious to what was going on under his nose."

"Is Bradley Stuart going to trial?" Castle asked.

Montgomery shakes his head. "Pleading guilty, not even asking for a deal - not that he'd get one. Apparently, he's so upset about what he did, and the way Madison betrayed him, they have him on suicide watch."

"Sad story," Castle remarks. "I believe he really did love Whitestone. Sometimes the line between love and hate is just too thin."

"Yeah, that's one of the things that keeps us in business," Montgomery agrees, "or at least will be keeping Beckett in business. So, Kate, are you ready?"

"I guess I'll find out. Any confirmation on who the new captain will be?"

"Not yet. I guess you'll be finding out about that too."

* * *

Castle props himself up on one elbow in bed and gazes down at Kate. It's still dark outside, but he's pretty sure that she's awake. "You were restless all night. Nervous about your first day in charge of the bullpen?"

"More nervous about meeting the new captain. She's supposed to be coming in sometime today to get settled in Roy's old office. The rumors were true. It's Iron Gates."

"You make her sound like something out of a horror movie - the spooky fence the protagonist climbs after a bus full college freshman breaks down in a dead zone for cell service, to try to get help at a mansion occupied by a crazed killer."

"Maybe not that bad, but I've heard that she might as well have a copy of the rulebook permanently implanted in her brain. We won't be doing anymore toasts when we finish a case, at least not with anything stronger than root beer. Our reports will have to be a lot less creative too. And she may not be too happy to have you around."

"Maybe the irrepressible Castle charm will win her over."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Babe." Kate pulls herself up and checks her watch on the bedside table. "I should get going. I want to be certain everything is in good shape when she shows up."

"Just to make sure, I'll make good luck pancakes while you're in the shower."

* * *

Castle can feel Victoria Gates' eyes scanning him up and down and not in an admiring way. "Mr. Castle, if it were up to me, you'd be out of my precinct. I've never been a fan of police groupies or dilletantes playing out their detective fantasies. But the mayor wants you here, and I follow orders."

Castle gazes at the floor. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Ma'am is my mother-in-law, call me sir or captain."

"Yes, Captain."

"And Sergeant Beckett, you may have an outstanding record of closing cases, but you also have one for riding the lines of police procedure too closely, especially with your fiancé, here. That's going to stop. In my precinct, every 'I' is dotted, and every 'T' is crossed, and that also goes for all the cops under your supervision. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then get out of here, both of you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Yes, Sir."

"I guess I won't be inviting her to any poker games," Castle muses, as he sinks into his chair beside Beckett's desk.

Kate rolls her eyes. "She'd probably arrest you for illegal gambling." Kate gestures at the stack of paperwork on her desk. "Look, Babe, you don't need to hang around. I'll probably be working on this stuff all morning to make sure it passes Gates' muster. And I know you have a deadline coming up. Alexis reminded you about it three times. We can both spend some time at our desks, and I'll call you if there's a new case."

"All right," Castle concedes, "but the minute a body drops, I want in."

Beckett flashes a smile. "Deal."

* * *

Castle rubs his eyes and then cracks his knuckles. He couldn't get the scene in the gay bar to work and finally decided to throw it out. He needs something new for Raley and Ochoa to do that will further flesh out their characters, perhaps a clash of cultures between the studious tech-savvy Raley and the hot-tempered Ochoa. He'll have to think about it more, but in the meantime writing a chapter or two featuring juicy scenes between Heat and Rook will satisfy Gina, and right now that's all he needs. He can fix the rest in the revisions.

No, that isn't really all that he needs. He and Kate both need to be back on the street, preferably with Ryan and Esposito for both support and inspiration. As if in answer to his plea, Kate's special ring sounds from his cell.

Castle should have been more careful what he wished for. Kate doesn't even bother to say hello. "Babe, we've got a case, and this is make or break time. A cop's been found murdered, and the vic is one of Gates' former partners. By the book, she's recusing herself from anything to do with the investigation. I have to nail this one – and fast. It's all on me."

"No, Kate, you may be in charge, but I'm still your partner. Finding the killer is on both of us. At your side, all the way."


	41. Chapter 41

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 41

The body is burned beyond recognition. If it weren't for DNA, it would have been impossible to identify Sergeant Carmen Redfield. Castle winces at the sight of what's left of Gates' former partner, lying on Lanie's table. "Why would someone do something like this?"

"Anger, Castle," Kate suggests. "This is personal. The killer wanted to remove Sergeant Redfield from this earth."

"So we can eliminate a random cop killing?" Castle asks.

Kate shakes her head. "We can't eliminate anything at this point, but we can concentrate our efforts. We look at lovers, former and present, family, Redfield's collars released from prison, especially any who like to play with matches."

"That's still a pretty wide net, Kate."

"I found something that might help," Lanie interjects. "There was saliva on the body, like someone spit on it after the blaze was out. The DNA was too degraded by the residual heat to get much out of it, but it came from a male."

"That eliminates half our suspects," Castle notes.

"More than half, Castle," Kate points out. "There are more women than men in New York."

"As any woman trying to find a decent guy could tell you," Lanie interjects.

"We need to talk to Carmen's next of kin, and her most recent partner, find out if there was any man who threatened her. And we'll need to question Gates, too," Kate goes on.

Castle pulls at the neck of his shirt. "I was afraid of that."

* * *

Lily Redfield's eyes are dry but red-rimmed, and her voice trembles. "Yes, my sister's been threatened, many times. She made a lot of busts. But she never took the threats seriously, and in fifteen years, no one ever tried to carry through on one - at least that she told me. She did have boyfriends. None of them were cops. She always said that she thought that it could end up compromising her judgment in a critical situation if she found a cop she cared about that way. She liked men who were good with their hands."

Castle represses the urge to make a response.

"I mean blue-collar types," Lily continues, "but skilled, like carpenters, plumbers, mechanics. There was a mechanic I was hoping she'd stay with. He used to fix my car. I'm not sure why they broke up. She wouldn't talk about it."

"Do you know his name?" Kate queries.

"Alphonso Zuniga. He worked at Superior Repairs up in the Bronx. I don't know if he's still there."

Kate records the information on her tablet. "Is there anyone else you can think of who might want to see Carmen dead?"

"No. Wait! Yes! Our cousin Yossi, Yossi Kahane. Our great aunt died. She had a huge place in Harlem she bought years before Clinton decided he wanted offices up there and the price of everything skyrocketed. Yossi thought it was worth a couple of million bucks and that he'd inherit it, but he'd been out of the city for decades. He barely saw Aunt Miriam, but Carmen did. She used to bring her salt-free bread that was supposed to be better for her blood pressure, and she called her every day to make sure she was all right, pretty much up until the end. It made sense that Aunt Miriam would leave Carmen the house, but Yossi was furious. I don't know if he meant it, but he swore he'd get even. He lives out on Staten Island, in kind of a dump. I can give you the address."

* * *

Gates gestures with her folded reading glasses. "I don't remember Carmen mentioning a cousin, but if he wasn't around, that's not surprising. She talked about her Aunt Miriam a lot. I went with her to see the woman, once or twice. She told great stories about growing up in the East Village back when apartments there were cheap, and the bathtubs were in the kitchen. It's no wonder that she bought in Harlem. She had a feel for when neighborhoods were going to rise. Carmen was always saying how wise her aunt was. I had no idea that Miriam had left Carmen the house, though. It's been a while since Carmen, and I talked. It was just as well for her. If she'd looked too friendly with someone from IA, she could have been a pariah. Members of my former department aren't exactly popular."

Kate isn't about to comment on the lack of love for IA. Her sharp glance at Castle ensures that he doesn't either. And she needs to ask about her other possible suspect. "Did Carmen ever mention an Alphonso Zuniga?"

Gates throws her glasses on top of a stack of papers on her desk. "Not that I can remember, but as I said, Carmen and I didn't talk much lately. And Kate, make sure you get your suspects' financials. One thing I learned in IA is that you always follow the money."

"Yes, Sir."

"I thought Gates recused herself from running the investigation," Castle remarks once Kate is back at her desk. It sounds like she's still giving orders."

"She probably can't help it, Castle. Habit. But I ordered financials for Carmen and her sister, in case Lily was holding something back. I'm getting them for Zuniga and Jossi Kahane too - also a copy of Miriam Kahane's will. Ryan is on all of that now. And I sent Espo up to Harlem with Karpowksi and a CSU team. They'll be going through the house Miriam left Carmen with a fine tooth comb. If there are any clues there, they should find them. I'm going to have McNulty check out Alphonso Zuniga at work. He has a thing for cars, and they should be able to speak the same language."

"You certainly are making good use of the bullpen. "What are we going to do now?"

"Drive to Staten Island. "Let's find out just how desperate Yossi was to get Aunt Miriam's house."

"And over the river, we go."

* * *

Dump is an apt description for Jossi Kahane's home. It's big enough, but the damage inflicted by a storm surge is all too evident from the discoloration of the outer wall and a musty odor that no coverup could mask. No wonder he would want a big dry house in Harlem. Kate presses the button for the doorbell but hears no chime or buzzer sounding within.

"Allow me," Castle offers, rapping loudly on the door. The sound of shuffling steps approaches and Jossi Kahane stares out warily. Kate raises her new badge. "Mr. Kahane, I'm Sergeant Beckett. I need to ask you a few questions."

"You may need to ask them, but I know my rights. I don't need to answer them," Kahane retorts, and slams the door."

"Now what?" Castle asks.

"Now I put 24/7 coverage on him until we get something that will convince a judge to issue a warrant," Kate replies grimly. "That was not the action of an innocent man."

"But what is he guilty of?" Castle wondered. "If he'd committed a murder, especially the killing of a cop, would he call attention to himself that way? Wouldn't it have been better for him to politely give us a line of B.S.?

"Maybe," Kate admits, "but if he did kill Carmen Redfield, I can't take the chance that he'll rabbit on us. While we have him under surveillance, we can figure out what other reason he might have for not wanting police sniffing around. And we can check back and see what the rest of my team dug up."

"The rest of your team," Castle repeats. "It should have a name. Beckett's crime-busters or Beckett's Bird Dogs - better alliteration. Or you could just go with Beckett's Band."

"Castle, I think I'll just stick with team."

"Boring, Kate."

"Don't worry, Babe, when we arrest the killer, you can tag him with a suitably florid phrase."

Castle presses his lips to her cheekbone. "I'm going to hold you to that, and I'm already thinking of one.


	42. Chapter 42

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 42

"Yossi Kahane isn't broke," Ryan announces, handing Kate a file.

"Why the hell would someone be living in a ravaged house like that if he has money?" Castle asks.

"Probably because of the way he made his money," Kate replies, scanning through Ryan's paperwork. "It looks like he sells storm-damaged goods without disclosing their origin. There's an outstanding warrant for him in Louisiana for fraud. No wonder he didn't want to talk to cops."

"Oh," Castle recalls "there was a lot of that going on after Hurricane Katrina. Unscrupulous dealers cosmetically cleaned up cars that had been drowned in the deluge. The buyers thought they were getting great deals until they discovered that the cars had all kinds of hidden problems. From where we found him, it looks like he might be moving up to flooded houses."

"Not yet," Ryan puts in. "He doesn't even own the one he's staying in. As far as I can make out, he's a squatter."

"Maybe he was surveying the abandoned homes in the area to see who he could cheat by fixing them up just enough to sell to New Yorkers so desperate for affordable housing that they wouldn't ask too many questions," Kate speculates.

"If he'd inherited his Aunt Miriam's house, that would have been a major windfall," Castle puts in. "He could have given himself a real air of respectability by living there or even sold it legitimately. Either way, he would have been pissed off that Carmen got it. But if he's just a squatter, he could have easily skipped town after taking her out, especially since he has money. He wouldn't have hung around waiting for the police to come calling."

"That may be true," Kate considers, "but with the warrant, we can pull him in for questioning. Lanie couldn't pin down the time of death because of the condition of the body, but if it turns out he has an alibi for the period of time Carmen Redfield hadn't been seen, we'll let the authorities in Louisiana know that we have him and see whether they want to bother extraditing him."

McNulty emerges from the elevator. "Sergeant Beckett, I found Alphonso Zuniga. He's working in Queens now at a custom rebuilding shop and had some interesting things to say."

"Such as?" Kate inquires.

"He insists that he was the one who broke up with Carmen. Apparently, he thought she was paying too much attention to another guy."

"What other guy?" Castle asks.

"He didn't know, except that he thought it was someone she knew from when they were kids."

"That doesn't make sense. You would think if it were, her sister would know about it," Castle remarks.

"Here's something else that doesn't make sense," Esposito adds, striding across the bullpen. "We found a bunch of stuff about firebugs on the computer Carmen Redfield had at her house in Harlem, but she didn't have any cases dealing with arson. That's the fire department's gig, and she wasn't even in touch with them."

"Actually, it does make a depraved kind of sense," Castle puts in. "Carmen was burned to death. Who would be more likely to do that than an arsonist? Zuniga thought Carmen was obsessing about someone she grew up with. And Kate, you wanted to look into anyone who liked to play with matches. Could Carmen have known someone like that; perhaps been trying to keep him out of trouble and been burned for her efforts - quite literally?"

Gates walks over to the group, from where she's been observing in the doorway of her office. "Mr. Castle, much as I hate to admit it, your theory is plausible. Carmen was always trying to help someone. She'd buy meals for the homeless and try to find them beds for the night. She volunteered at schools to mentor troubled kids. If there was someone from her childhood who she thought was getting into trouble, she might have tried to save him."

Kate nods. "The question is, who?'

"It seems to me," Castle replies, "that the person to ask would be Lily Redfield."

"You're right, Castle," Kate agrees. "Let's go see her."

* * *

Lily sighs as she rests her chin against the knuckles of one hand. "A boy Carmen knew who liked to play with fire? The problem is, she and I had different groups of friends growing up. Carmen liked more of the rough and tumble stuff. She climbed trees and fences, played pick-up tackle football games with the boys. That wasn't me. I was into home ec. You know, sewing and cooking. Sometimes I fixed the rips she got in her clothes before our mother saw them. But mostly I hung out with other girls. There was this boy at our middle school that some of them made fun of because they thought he was weird, but Carmen was always kind to him. His name was Kris something, with a 'K.' I think his last name began with an 'O.' I remember that he brought a lighter to school one day. One of the teachers confiscated it and sent him to the principal's office. The story was all over the school. I don't think anyone was thinking about fires. Smoking was a big deal then, tobacco or pot. I guess the teacher must have figured that if he had a lighter, that's what he was doing. But there was a clique that used a park near the school to smoke. As far as I know, he wasn't part of it."

"Kris with a 'K' with a surname beginning with an 'O'" Kate repeats. "We should be able to get the school records and figure out who that was."

"There was a yearbook," Lily adds. "He might be in it."

* * *

"Wow," Castle exclaims, staring at a picture in the Eastside Middle School yearbook. "The look in this kid's eyes! I can see why the girls might have called him weird - although in middle school even the wrong haircut would have qualified him for that appellation."

Kate looks over his shoulder. "Or the wrong pair of jeans or sneakers. Middle school can be a cruel place. But at least we have a name, Kristoffer Olafson. Same year as Carmen, so probably about the same age. With any luck, he's in the DMV database. Ryan is checking now."

"Got him, Beckett," Ryan proclaims, approaching Kate's desk. "Kristoffer Olafson lives in Harlem, not that far from the house Carmen inherited, only in not nearly as nice a neighborhood."

"They might have seen each other on the street or in the subway," Castle speculates. "Maybe they recognized each other and struck up a conversation, but that's not exactly New York City style is it? Especially not in Olafson's neck of the woods. Eyes averted minding your own business would be more the cultural norm."

"But according to what both Gates and Lily told us, Carmen wasn't into that particular cultural norm. She went out of her way to help people," Kate figures. "She might have tried to make contact if she thought he seemed troubled. And incipient arsonists don't grow out of being disturbed. They just get worse. Ready for a trip to Harlem, Castle?

"Sure, especially if we can stop for some goodies. We'll only be a few blocks from one of the best bakeries in town."

"Just bring some of the good stuff back, Bro," Esposito urges.

Castle presses the tips of his fingers together to "feed the birds." "The pastry express is now on track 1."


	43. Chapter 43

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 43

As Kate spots Kris Olafson carrying a canvas bag toward the front door of his rundown apartment building, he sees her and Castle, drops the duffel and takes off at a run. Kate sighs, relieved that she's wearing boots against Spring mud, rather than her treasured spike heels, and pursues the fleeing suspect while Castle guards what Olafson left behind.

Olafson may be an arsonist, but he's not much of an athlete. Kate brings him down with a running tackle and cuffs him before he's made it two blocks. She calls in a marked unit for backup and returns to Castle while the uniformed cops take charge of her prisoner.

Kate points to the bag. "Have you touched it?"

"Much as it is my want to investigate the contents, you've trained me well. I haven't laid a finger on it and will swear to the same in court, if necessary. I just hope that after all that, it's not full of his gym shorts."

"I doubt it is, Babe. If he'd spent much time in the gym, it would have been a lot harder to chase him down." Kate snaps a picture of the bag before opening it. "Paint thinner, a classic accelerant. Fuses, some kind of electronic trigger. This is an arsonist's tool kit. No wonder he ran. Fleeing is enough probable cause to take him in, but we both witnessed him carrying this, and his fingerprints are probably on the bag and all over his toys inside. We'll have more than enough to book him and get a DNA sample."

"Lanie said that the DNA that she found on Carmen's body was degraded," Castle recalls. "She may not be able to get a match."

Kate waves at the bag. "Combined with all of this and Olafson's previous connection with Carmen, whatever markers she gets may be enough. And once we have his prints and fresh DNA, we may find some matches to what CSU found at the scene. We'll just have to see what the techs come up with. I'll document the chain of custody, and we can transport this to the CSU lab."

"Would we be putting a kink in that chain if we stop to pick up the treats for Esposito and Beckett's Best? If I don't show up with the perfect pastry, it will take me at least a month to live it down."

"It'll be OK Castle, as long as I can account for the whereabouts of the firebug's dream stash."

* * *

Kate regards an email from CSU. "They found Olafson's prints and DNA in Carmen's house. He was in the kitchen, but they said it looked like he banged on the bedroom door. He kicked it and spat on it too."

"Fireboy is into spitting," Castle notes. "But pounding on the bedroom door sounds like his flaming desire for more intimate contact with Carmen had been denied. Perhaps he mistook her concern for leading him on, and when she refused to participate in more personal pursuits, he turned on her, perhaps took her unawares, knocked her out, and sacrificed her to his own hellish demon."

"It's as good a theory as any, Castle unless Olafson confesses. But even if he does, I don't know whether a court would deem him competent to make a statement. We have more than enough to prove he killed Carmen. The residue on her body matches what would have been produced by the paint thinner in his bag. Those products are often marked with dyes that break down to identifiable chemicals when burned, and the one Olafson had is in that category. Enough of the DNA markers were salvageable to be presented as evidence too. Olafson will either end up in prison or a psych ward, maybe both. But he won't be killing anyone else or setting any fires."

"And Lily Redfield and Captain Gates will have some closure," Castle adds. "You should get some satisfaction from that and who knows? I may have earned a brownie point or two with your boss."

"I think you did, Babe. She's stopped sneering when she mentions your name."

Castle nods. "That's progress. But you know, there's something else we need to make some progress on."

"You mean our wedding plans. I'm sorry, Rick, I let things slide while I was getting used to being a Sergeant, and working on this case."

"No worries. I understand. But now that things are more settled, I can set up a meeting with Gloria Meadows. How would you feel about tonight, after dinner? Alexis will want to participate, and Mother thankfully will be at the theater."

"Sounds good, Castle. And you'll tell her where you got that cake for the party, that was so good?"

"Number one on my list."

* * *

Gloria Meadows shows up with a thick binder that looks familiar to Castle but is new to Kate. As she flips the pages, there are swatches of fabric in the colors Kate had long before told Castle she'd like for the linens at the reception. There are also photos of flower arrangements and even dried flowers to look at as samples to go into Kate's bouquet. The book also contains also facility lists and layouts for multiple venues bookable for September. Gloria cautions that if Kate wants one of them, they'll have to reserve it right away.

Kate finds Gloria's undeniable talent for organization reassuring, but still can't help feeling overwhelmed. Castle smiles his understanding, reaching for Kate's hand. "We won't do anything you don't want, will we Mrs. Meadows?"

"Of course not," Gloria assures the bride to be. "Now Rick told me that the two of you had settled on about 100 guests. Is that still true?"

Kate makes a mental tally. "I guess it is, although there may be a few more people from the precinct."

Gloria nods. "We can manage that." She points to some of the images. "These venues can all accommodate up to 150. That gives you some wiggle room. And if you don't fill them up, we can expand the dance floor. Now Rick also tells me you've already made your choice of cake. All of these options are capable of providing the rest of the food. You'll just have to decide on what you think you and your guests would like. Oh, and Rick said you wanted a DJ. I can offer you several choices, all very reliable and capable of providing a wide selection of music. If you want a specialist in a genre like hip hop or show tunes, tell me now, and I'll hunt someone up."

Kate visualizes her father trying to deal with rap music. "No hip hop." She looks at Castle. "We agreed on Sinatra's 'The Best Is Yet to Come,' for our first dance, right Babe?"

He kisses the top of her head. "I certainly approve of the sentiment."

"Dad, you don't want show tunes," Alexis cautions. "You know how Gram is when she's had a lot of champagne."

"Right," Castle agrees. "We don't need the musical portrayal of the girl who can't say no. We'll go with a mix of pop for the younger set and standards for the more mature and experienced in the crowd."

"Fine," Gloria agrees. "I'll get working on all of that and stay in touch."

* * *

Castle extends a hand to Kate as she joins him in bed, pressing a kiss into her palm. "I know you were nervous about having to make the decisions about the wedding tonight, but you did great."

Kate snuggles into his shoulder. "Babe, I was nervous, but I'm not now, at least not about flowers and music. I'm going to marry you, and everyone who's important to us is going to be there to celebrate with us. I can't wait for September."

Castle gathers her into his arms. "We'll just have to find a way to fill the time."


	44. Chapter 44

Slaying the Beast

Chapter 44

"Was that Gloria?" Kate asks.

Castle lays his cellphone on his desk. "It was. She said we lost our ballroom. Smashing Heads had a release party in there last night, and they smashed everything, including holes in the walls. Not only does the hotel have to fix those, but the damage caused a short that knocked the power out on that whole floor."

"Rick, our wedding is this afternoon. What are we going to do?"

"We're going to do better. The hotel is giving us the roof, and they'll direct our guests to the right location. There's a garden up there, complete with heaters if we need them. There's room to set up for the ceremony and for dancing."

"What if it rains?"

"There's no precipitation in the forecast. I checked first thing this morning. But Gloria says they can set up an inflatable shelter for us if it looks like there's any chance of something coming down. There may be some wind, but we'll be on the lee side of the building. Kate this is serendipity. It could be even more beautiful than we planned."

"I hope so, Babe."

"Look, Gloria's already over there. So's the florist. I'm going to grab my wedding gear and join them. We'll make sure that when you come down the aisle, no one will have a reason in the world to concentrate on anything except my incomparably gorgeous bride."

* * *

Standing on the slightly crunchy surface of the roof, Castle gazes upward. There aren't any clouds. The sky is bright blue. Unfortunately, it's the shade of blue that is typical of an inversion layer that holds warmer air closer to the ground. They won't be needing the heaters. The weather is going to be more like Summer than Fall. Air conditioning would have been nice. He can try to get the hotel to scare up some fans. He's already sweating, and under his wedding suit, it will be worse - at least until the ceremony is over and he can shed his jacket. Most of the men coming will be uncomfortable as well as may some of the more mature ladies.

The hotel will be laying down a portable dance floor to compensate for the roughness of the surface. The able staff, in red vests and black bow ties, is already setting up tables, chairs, a bar, and a makeshift kitchen of sorts.

The florist brought a roll of satiny white fabric for Kate and Lanie to tread, as they approach the flowery arch that bounds the area where the ceremony will take place. She's busy laying it down while the tables are being set up. She'll bring up the centerpieces as soon as she has a place to put them.

He strolls through the elevated beds that make up the garden from which the chef gathers fresh herbs. Good for her. He would have expected them to be trucked in from upstate. The greenery does add an air of life to an atmosphere that could become stifling before the ceremony takes place. He strides back to the door that leads to the elevator. Gloria can more than ably supervise the arrangements. If the hotel doesn't have fans, he knows a rental house that provides them for movies shooting in New York. They should be able to get them up to a hotel roof with no trouble.

* * *

Kate paces the suite that she and Lanie are using as a dressing room. Both Castle and Gloria have assured her that everything is fine, but she's not worried about tables and chairs - or even the temperature. As she stepped into her mother's dress, it came home to her exactly what being married would mean. Until the day her mother died, her parents were totally devoted to each other. That didn't mean that they never fought. She'd heard some pretty good ones when they thought she was asleep or lost in her music. But she never had a moment's doubt that they took the pledge of "until death do us part," seriously. Obviously, Castle couldn't keep that promise to Meredith or Gina, if it had even been made at his marriage ceremony with either one of them. Kate wants to make that vow, and mean it, and she wants Rick to do the same. She's just not sure the kind of marriage her father and mother had exists anymore.

Roy and Evelyn Montgomery have been together for thirty years and if anything seem to be getting closer. From what she's been able to gather, Captain Gates and her husband are quite close too, as are Lanie's parents. Maybe it can still happen. She just has to let herself believe that the love she and Rick have for each other can overcome any challenges they face. God knows there have been enough of them already, and every one of them has just bound them more tightly together.

Maybe that's the way it works. It did for her parents. When they found themselves on opposing sides in a case, they found a way to get past it. When they clashed over Kate buying a motorcycle, they found a way to get past that too. The one thing Jim Beckett could never get past was Johanna's death.

Lanie puts a hand on her shoulder. "Kate, what's going on? You should be walking on air, but you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Kate sinks down on a leather ottoman, with the full skirt of her gown spread around her. "Lanie, I'm just thinking about what happened to Dad after my mother was killed. It tore him apart. His practice went to hell. It took years for him to get sober and start putting his life back together again. What if I get killed in the line of duty? What's going to happen to Castle? Should I be taking the chance of putting him through that?"

Lanie pulls up a chair near Kate. "Girlfriend, you listen to me. If there's one thing I know as a medical examiner, it's that everyone dies. They never know exactly when it's going to happen, and they rarely know how, but death is inevitable. Castle is older than you are, and men have shorter lifespans than women. He could be the one to go first. And Bracken is locked up. There's no one gunning for you anymore. You could live to retire like Montgomery, or you could be hit by a bus tomorrow. Any of us could. The important thing is to get as much out of life as you can, while you can.

"Your biggest enemy, the beast that's been eating at your soul, was never Bracken. It's been your own fear. You can't let it win. I know you love Castle, or you wouldn't be torturing yourself with the what ifs. And I know he loves you. The whole world can see it every time he looks at you. You two are meant to be together for however long and in whatever way you can."

Lanie stares at Kate's face. "Damn! You messed up your makeup. Not that Castle would mind, but you need to do this looking good. I'll fix it. Then you are going to grab on to your daddy's arm, get your ass down that aisle, and marry Writer Boy. Are you hearing me, Kate?"

"Loud and clear, Lanie. Thanks."

* * *

A tall, white-haired man watches the ceremony through a scope from a nearby rooftop. He can't hear the vows, but he can see in the faces of the bride and groom that they mean every word. He grins when his son and Kate Beckett come together for their first kiss as husband and wife, and lays down his scope. "Finally, Richard, you got it right."

Finis

A/N Thank you for joining me on this journey. Tomorrow I'll have a chapter of a new AU story. When a nineteen-year-old Kate meets Castle at a book signing, she tells him how his books are helping her through her mother's death. He invites her for coffee, and the two become pen pals. Where it goes from there, you'll see in "Stay in Touch." Love, Sally.


End file.
